Brother Dearest
by PrincessMaylin
Summary: Seven months after Aladdin and Jasmine's own wedding, Genie and Eden get married. However, after the two embark on their honeymoon, Aladdin and the rest of the gang find themselves in a sticky situation. Several, to be exact. Please read and review! Love from May.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey guys! For those of you who don't know me, my name is May, and this is my first Aladdin fanfic! I've written another fic for the tv series Ringer, so if you're into that, go check it out! I know this is rather short for a first chapter, but bear with me! Please read and review! I need the feedback!

Thanks a bunch,

Princess Maylin

 **Brother Dearest—Chapter One**

Seven months after the wedding of Aladdin and Jasmine, the people of Agrabah—or at least, the royal family—found themselves celebrating again when Aladdin's best friend and jinni, named Genie, married his jinni girlfriend of almost two years, Eden. The wedding itself had been nearly as extravagant as that of the Princess and Prince, but with more jinn than anyone could count. When it came time for their honeymoon, they had chosen a vast array of places to visit, including the Grand Canyon, Fiji, and, to everyone's surprise, the rings of Saturn.

Before leaving on their trip, Eden had practically fussed over her twelve year old master, Dhandi, to the little girl's greatest annoyance, making sure everyone in the palace knew to give her her allergy medicine in the instance that she forgot. Dhandi had to reassure her no less than fifty times that she would _not_ forget to take it.

After enduring about an hour of overbearing motherly antics from Eden, Genie had finally convinced his new wife that they were going to be late for their tour of the Canyon on the mules if they didn't get going.

"We'll bring back lots and lots of souvenirs and pictures!" he promised as he grabbed his bulging suitcase and took hold of Eden's hand.

"And don't do anything crazy while we're gone!" shouted Eden as the two disappeared from sight.

Aladdin didn't know whether to laugh at that or be worried about it. It seemed like nine times out of ten, he and his friends never did anything to make something crazy happen. It just happened…or, at least, that's what he liked to think.

Later that night, Abu and Carpet were locked in a game of chess, while Aladdin watched with more anticipation than he ever had with any chess match before. Surprisingly, Abu could _really_ hold his own. For a little while, that is. When Carpet finally succeeded in getting his king to Abu's side of the board, the monkey sulked away in defeat.

"Oh, come on, Abu," Aladdin reassured him. "It's not that bad. You'll win next time." He tried to sound optimistic, but his voice ultimately betrayed him. After all, Carpet won almost every game he ever played. In fact, Aladdin could only think of one instance (that he knew of) where the rug had actually lost, and Genie, his opponent, had ended up getting upset anyway because Carpet had been such a good sport about it.

The monkey gave Aladdin an incredulous look and crossed his arms before settling down on a pillow on the window sill to sleep off his new-found feeling of loss. In front of him, Dhandi was curled up on the sofa, snoring lightly.

Aladdin yawned and decided to catch some sleep himself, so he headed back to the bedroom he shared with Jasmine, only to find her and her friend Sadira talking loudly and brushing each other's hair.

"I don't know," Sadira was saying as Jasmine ran her brush through her friend's frizzy locks. "This whole blind date thing you started me on is really getting on my nerves. I mean, I've been on _five_ in the past two months and none of them were remotely my type. Where did you even meet those guys? I mean, one of them kept talking nonstop about his mother's pet goat! It was the weirdest thing I'd ever heard!"

"Well, to be fair, one of them was an old suitor that never really caught my eye, so I'm sorry about that one. But the others, well, they were Aladdin's friends, so if you want something less weird, you're probably better off finding a guy on your own," Jasmine said apologetically, not caring that Aladdin was in ear shot.

Honestly, though, Aladdin couldn't blame her or Sadira. Most of his acquaintances—he couldn't really call any of them "friends"— _were_ weird. Most of them had agreed to go out with Sadira simply because Aladdin was the new Prince of Agrabah and they expected him to pay them large sums, which, of course, he had to do.

Not that Sadira knew that, anyway.

"I just have the feeling I'm going to die an old maid," the girl with the frizzy hair complained. "I mean, honestly, you guys are twenty and eighteen and you're already married and about to raise a family!"

"What?" Jasmine sounded offended. "I am _not_ pregnant!" But, she blushed and gave a sheepish smile. "Not this month, anyway." Then, she started pinching her tiny waist, as if to inspect the fat that wasn't there. "Have I really gained that much weight in the passed few months? I know I've been eating pretty unhealthily lately, but-"

" _No_ , you haven't," Sadira let out a laugh at her friend and then continued sulkily. "I just mean that you guys are ready to start a family! Your lives are going somewhere! Mine's not. I feel hopeless."

"You feel that way now, Sadira," Aladdin spoke for the first time since entering the room, "but in a few months, you'll find someone great! You'll see."

Sadira scoffed in disbelief.

"And until then, you have us!" Jasmine chimed in, ignoring her retort. Now, that was the truth. Even after she found the man of her dreams, Sadira would always have Jasmine and Aladdin to keep her company.

At that, Sadira smiled slightly. "Okay, I guess I could live with that. Thanks guys."

* * *

After Sadira left, Jasmine and Aladdin readied themselves for bed. However, neither of them could sleep.

"I guess things are going to be different around here now, huh?" said Aladdin, his head propped up on his elbow to look at his wife.

"I guess so," Jasmine replied. "I mean, Eden and Dhandi will be moving in, obviously, so we'll need to prepare for that."

"Yeah," he said thoughtfully. "Hopefully, though, we'll still have some peace and quiet."

He said the last bit sarcastically, and the couple started to laugh. Things were never quiet around there and there was almost never any peace. Something different went on every day and nothing was predictable.

"You know," Jasmine began entwining her fingers with her husband's absentmindedly, "speaking sarcastically of peace and quiet, I never thought I'd say this in a million years, but I'm actually starting to miss Iago."

Aladdin chuckled slightly, thinking of the squawking red parrot. "Actually…I wasn't going to say anything, but I miss him, too."

Iago may have been greedy, mischievous, annoying, and who knew what else, but they still loved him.

"I just hope he's not driving my father to insanity," Aladdin said lightly, wondering what his father and the parrot could be up to now.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey everybody! Thanks so much to everyone who has read thus far! This chapter is a bit…dark, to say the least, a bit outside of the typical Disney realm, but I hope you enjoy it all the same. Please remember to review!

Love from,

May

 **Brother Dearest—Chapter Two**

Iago was highly tempted to go back to Agrabah. Since leaving the lovey dovey newlyweds, he and Aladdin's father Cassim had had next to no adventures. In fact, the biggest surprise Iago had found of yet was a denarius in the sand, and that was because an elderly woman in the caravan that they were following at the time had spilled her coin purse. He had been forced to give what he found back to her, as Cassim was no longer one for stealing, and that had devastated the parrot to no end.

Today had been just as uneventful as ever. Iago and the former King of Thieves were in a village that was just about as classless as it was nameless about forty-five miles from Agrabah, and had been spending the night in a dilapidated inn above a tavern. While the inn smelled terrible and the pillows weren't the least bit comfortable, the food served at the tavern was considerably decent, so Iago wasn't complaining about that, at least. At breakfast that morning, he stuffed his face full of porridge and attempted to think pleasant thoughts about gold and treasure.

He was doing a pretty good job, too, until someone in a tattered hooded cloak came barging into the pub, demanding food. At first, the parrot was annoyed at such a person's antics. Why couldn't this guy have the decency to at least beg for food _on the street_ like a normal person? This was his first thought, until he recognized the young voice. Even in agony and distress, it was mellifluous.

The voice belonged to the young sorcerer Mozenrath, Aladdin's greatest enemy alive to date. Iago began to shiver like a madman and hopped onto Cassim's shoulder, whispering frantically.

"We gotta get outta here! That's Mozenrath! He's Al's worst enemy!" the parrot squawked.

Cassim swallowed a bite of food and gave the bird a look. "You just spent the last five weeks telling me about Jafar being Aladdin's worst enemy," he whispered, not believing Iago's warning.

"Mozenrath's a thousand percent worse!" the bird said harshly. "He can't be any older than twenty-five and he's already taken over an entire kingdom! He's bad news, Cassim! Bad news! We gotta leave, now!"

" _What_ is his name?" the man asked, continuing to ignore Iago's cries of danger. But, Iago was a bit taken aback by the way he asked the question. His tone was uncertain, but at the same time, incredulous, as if he had heard the name before, but wasn't quite sure about where to place it.

"Mozenrath!" The bird spat, as though the name were a swear word. He watched as the former King of Thieves' eyes grew very wide. "He's—"

"Calm down, my friend," the man said, shaking his head. "He doesn't seem dangerous at all, nothing worse than a beggar would be."

"Oh, don't let him fool you!" Iago admonished. "He'll bite your head off!"

Cassim raised his hand at the bird to silence him, rose to his feet, as if in wonderment, and turned toward the counter, where Mozenrath was still begging the innkeeper.

"I'll pay you back whenever I get home!" Iago heard the young man say. "Just give me _something_! I've been traveling for many months. I don't know where I am! I haven't eaten in days!"

Then, Iago heard something that he didn't think he'd hear come out of the sorcerer's mouth in a million years:

" _Please._ "

"I'm going to pay for his meal," Cassim whispered in a determined voice, gripping the back of his chair.

" _What?"_

The former King of Thieves ignored the bird's cry of protest and walked toward the young man. Not wanting to be seen or heard by Mozenrath, however, Iago quickly hid underneath Cassim's cloak.

"Give the boy whatever he wants," Cassim said. Iago heard him pulling a handful of gold out of his pocket and laying it on the counter. "I'll pay."

Even though Iago couldn't see Mozenrath's reaction to this, he imagined that it was very similar to his own. There was a long moment of silence, and, for whatever reason, Iago could feel Cassim's shoulders tense, before the bird heard the sound of the innkeeper pouring something into a bowl and pushing it, presumably towards Mozenrath.

He then heard the cry of "Food! Food!" coming from somewhere. It was the voice of Xerxes, Mozenrath's eel familiar.

Iago felt Cassim turn and begin to walk away. He heard the tavern doors opening and took in the unmistakable feeling of the hot desert sun. Even in the early morning, it was a pest.

"Iago, we have to go back to Agrabah," Cassim said before Iago even had a chance to make his way out from under the cloak. "There is something I must tell Aladdin." His voice was low and shaking, not that Iago cared to know the reason why.

"I know!" the bird squawked irritably, ruffling his feathers as he made his way out from under Cassim's garment. Leave it to Cassim to make matters worse. Like father, like son. "Mozenrath is making his way back! Slowly, but surely. He'll probably have that stupid gauntlet back and be making an attempt—again—at taking over the planet in no less than six hours! Thanks to _you_!"

"Not just that…" the man countered, looking at his feet.

"What?" The parrot asked. "What could be more important than Mozenrath comin' back?"

But, without explaining further, Cassim mounted his horse, which had been tethered outside the tavern, slapped the reins, and road off, Iago huffing and puffing as he flew to catch up to the speeding man, not understanding in the slightest what was going on.

* * *

Mozenrath didn't know whether to be shocked or not. Since he had been deprived of his gauntlet and his power, he had been forced to make ends meet by stealing (and killing), or begging to the point of insanity. (He never thought that he would have to use the word "please" and actually mean it. It showed just what kind of situation Aladdin and his stupid friends had gotten him into.)

No one had shown him so much kindness as to pay for his food. Never….

And what was with that look that the man had given him upon seeing his face? Did he know the man from somewhere? He certainly didn't look familiar, at least not from Mozenrath's end. Maybe it was Mozenrath's pale and worn complexion that had startled the man. Mozenrath knew that he had to look pretty badly beaten, not having eaten or slept in so long, and his clothes, once rich and stunning, were now ragged and filthy. Who wouldn't have been shocked by his appearance?

It didn't matter, though. Mozenrath cast the man—and his kindness—from his mind and ate his fill of porridge. However, after leaving the tavern, he discovered that he was in a village with no access to remotely anything outside of it. Xerxes, his belly now full, was flying almost happily beside his master, singing a made-up tune. Usually, Mozenrath would have scolded him for this, but he was too distracted at finding a way back to his kingdom. But, with no idea where he was, he didn't know where to start looking.

And so he wandered around the streets of the village, asking anyone who looked to have the slightest bit of intelligence if they knew where the Land of the Black Sand was from here. Yet, no one seemed to have any idea. In fact, none made any indication that they had ever heard of such a place. Finally, frustrated and tired, Mozenrath sat down on the sandy street, Xerxes hovering above him, and let out a tremendous sigh.

"We lost forever?" the eel asked.

"I don't know, Xerxes," the young sorcerer replied, looking down at his skeletal right hand, which had once been encased by his gauntlet and was now bandaged with rags from his tattered cape. "I just don't know…"

A long silence followed as Mozenrath contemplated what he could possibly do to find his way back home. It seemed anything but hopeful, that is, until he heard the sound of a door opening behind him.

"Excuse me, young man?"

Mozenrath turned his head in the direction of an elderly woman's voice. She was leaning in the doorway, wearing a bejeweled dress, and looking out at him.

"I saw you from my window. Are you lost?" she asked.

"In a manner of speaking," the young man said hollowly, not wanting to be bothered by an old woman. Oh, how he hated the elderly!

"Perhaps I can help," she offered. "Come inside."

The woman held open the hanging wooden door for him to enter. He stole a look at Xerxes, who looked eager to take the woman's offer to escape the hot sun, which neither he nor Mozenrath were used to, having lived in such a dark and clouded land for so long.

After a moment, Mozenrath consented. What harm could such an old woman bring to him?

The interior of the home was small and crowded with teapots and tiny bottles, and it had the overwhelming smell of herbs and spices throughout it. The woman led Mozenrath and his eel into the kitchen, where a cauldron sat in the fireplace on the far side of the room.

"Would you like some tea?" the old woman asked politely.

"No," Mozenrath replied curtly. Beside him, Xerxes made a disgusted noise at the thought of tea. "I want to know how to get back to my home!"

"And where would home be for you, young man?" she asked, opening the cupboard and beginning to search for something.

He watched her for a moment, wondering if she was wise enough to know anything about his homeland. She pulled a small round object out of the cupboard. It was slightly larger than a paper weight, but clear to the point that Mozenrath could see right through it.

Then, it hit him.

"Is that a scrying ball?" he asked. He had plenty of those at the Citadel to know just what it was.

"Scrying ball!" shouted Xerxes as he began to zoom around the orb.

"So you _are_ a wizard!" the old woman smiled, not appearing at all affected by Xerxes' actions. "I thought so. You see, I'm a witch and an empath…of sorts. I can sense emotion, and when people are in distress, their guards are down, their emotions are uncontrolled, and I can learn more about them. I sensed that you were in trouble, so I thought that perhaps I could help you. So, where do you hail from?"

Mozenrath scoffed and looked at his feet, but the woman didn't respond. She remained pleasant and warm.

"The Land of the Black Sand," he finally responded, begrudgingly.

"Hmm…" the old woman looked down at her hands and placed the scrying ball on the old wooden table before her. "You're in luck, young man. I _do_ know of that place. I have never been there myself, but I know where it is, and I have a way of getting there that would be much quicker than the seven days it would take by horse or camel."

Her smile looked genuine, but Mozenrath remained cautious. Ever since his dealing with Khartoum, he had forbidden himself from crossing paths with any other magic doer. It was too risky for business, and none of them could be trusted, not as far as he was concerned. How did he know that this woman was any different than the wizard of the book?

"Why should I trust you?" he asked skeptically. Xerxes gave her a look that said he was just as distrustful as his master and bared his sharp teeth.

The woman looked as if she didn't quite understand the young sorcerer's question. "I swear, by Allah, I mean you no harm, young sir. I merely wish to help you."

She walked into an adjacent room, leaving him and his eel alone momentarily, and returned with a heavy wool cloth in her arms. It looked as if she were having trouble carrying it, her being so old and frail, but Mozenrath made no move to help her.

Unable to carry the cloth very far, she rolled it out, almost clumsily, so that it landed at his feet.

"This carpet was made for me by my father, Ahmed the Wise, as the villagers called him. He was a sorcerer, like yourself. A good man, indeed. One of the best. However, I have no need for such a magic carpet. I only keep it as a memory of my father. Yet, seeing as you are in great need, I am willing to let you have it."

"At what price?" the young man asked, still suspicious.

"None," the woman said simply. "I see something in you, a great struggle, and I am willing to help you overcome it."

"A great struggle?" Mozenrath echoed sarcastically. "Yes, my _struggle_ is that I am unable to return to my home, nothing more. However, if you are lying to me about the properties of that carpet, you should be aware that you are only hurting yourself. Because, if you give it to me and I discover that it is not magical, then I will _not_ hesitate to kill you, as I have done to everyone else who has wronged me in the past."

The old woman blinked. "No, that is not the only struggle you possess, young man." She had ignored his threat completely. "You are angry and vengeful at someone from your past." She walked back toward the table where the scrying ball lay. "As I said, when I sense that one's emotions are awry, I learn about one's struggles."

She sat down in front of the ball. "And your struggle is interesting."

"What do you mean?" Mozenrath asked. He didn't quite understand why, but he was intrigued by what the woman had to say. He himself did not have the natural ability to sense emotions or to be able to learn about people's situations based on sense. He hadn't even really believed that that kind of natural power was possible, until today, that is. However, at the same time, he was distrustful of this woman. It was not a gut instinct that told him to be so, but rather his wary mind, which had been wronged many times.

"I mean, the one with whom you quarrel is very _significant_ to your past and to who you are," the woman said.

"What?" he asked in disbelief. Now, he was ready to walk right out. "I have no idea what you are talking about, hag! You're nothing but a hoax and a liar!"

"But, I'm not," the woman said calmly. "You will understand in due time, but I'll go ahead and say that you are not alone...Your family is still out there."

"What?" he repeated, his head filled with rage and he turned briskly to walk out of this crazy woman's house. Xerxes followed him. "I have no family! I was raised by the sorcerer Destane! Before that, I was nothing! I couldn't possibly—"

"You are only partially right," she interrupted him just as he reached the threshold between the kitchen and the hallway. "Your mother has indeed passed on, but your father and brother still live…."

This stopped Mozenrath in his tracks. He turned back to look at her and was now angrier than he had been in a very long while. He felt his face flush as red as it could in his poor health and his teeth clench as he stared at her.

" _You foolish wretch_." Even though he was angry, he kept his voice calm. "It does not do well for you to lie to someone like me. When I get my powers back, _you_ will be the first to die!"

Instead of responding with words, however, the old woman made the scrying ball glow to show Mozenrath what it was that she wanted him to see.

And he gasped at what he saw, his heart pounding, his eyes wide with shock. He didn't want to believe it.

What trickery was this?

He was so angry, that, without thinking about what he was doing, he grabbed the ball and pounded it against the old woman's skull. Again and again.

Blood had never felt so good on his hands.

Why wait until he had his powers back to kill her? She didn't deserve that respect.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys! I hope you're enjoying the story so far! Thanks to everyone who has read! Please remember to review! Thanks!

Love,

May

 **Brother Dearest—Chapter Three**

"How much cumin did you put in this stuff?" Aladdin usually wasn't one to complain about food. If something was unappetizing for him, he would usually just politely pick at it, eating little bites as not to seem rude.

But this was an issue.

It was seven o'clock in the evening and Sadira had decided to lessen the burdens of the cooks in the palace and bring by a meal of lamb stew for the royal family. It had been a wonderful gesture of friendship, yes, but unfortunately, the truth of the matter was that Sadira couldn't cook for a single grain of sand. The lamb in the stew was under cooked, raw, even. The rice was burned, and the _cumin_! The amount of cumin in one spoonful could have killed an entire army, as far as Aladdin was concerned.

"Umm…about…" Sadira thought about it, but then her expression turned into one of shock as she realized her mistake. "Oh, I put five _tablespoons_! Now, I know what I did wrong. It was supposed to be five _teaspoons_ …I read the recipe the wrong way…." She grimaced. "I'm so sorry, guys!"

"Don't worry, Sadira," Jasmine swallowed a large mouthful of water from her goblet just as Aladdin felt his stomach do a back flip. "It's not _that_ bad."

She tried to sound sincere, but Sadira knew better. The girl with the frizzy hair gave the Princess a look that said: "I wouldn't believe you in a million years."

Meanwhile, Aladdin's stomach couldn't take it anymore. Before he had a chance to even consider running to the toilet, he vomited. He had only taken one bite of the stew, but, apparently, that was all it took to empty him of an entire day's—and probably close to three hundred dinari—worth of food.

"Oh, Aladdin!" Sadira cried upon seeing her friend's stomach contents hit the floor, which was, luckily, wood rather than carpet, and thus, easy to clean. "I'm so sorry!"

Aladdin grabbed a napkin from the table and wiped off his mouth. "Just…don't…e _ver_ …feed us _anything_ …ever _again_!" he breathed.

Jasmine walked over and rubbed his back comfortingly. He noticed that his wife's own face was quite red from the overpowering amount of the spice, but besides that, she looked put together. She had always had a stronger palate—and stomach—than her husband.

Dhandi and Abu, however, hadn't even touched the stew and were content with eating a bowl of fruit, especially after witnessing a scene like that. Carpet was the one cleaning up Aladdin's mess, having grabbed the rag around which Sadira had wrapped the hug pot of stew and began soaking up the vomit with it, "cringing" as he did so.

"Iago was right," Sadira said, looking at the pot of the miserable stew. "I'm a horrible cook!"

"You're darn right I was right!" a grating voice came in through the window. Aladdin felt his stomach go from a feeling of sickness to one of surprise as the red parrot appeared. "I'm always right! Sadira can't cook for—ew!" It was then that he noticed Aladdin's complexion and the mess that Carpet was in the process of cleaning up. "Al! You need to see a doctor! You could be poisoned!"

Sadira hung her head, looking guilty, but Aladdin and Jasmine were too distracted by Iago's presence to defend her.

"Iago, what are you doing here?" Jasmine asked.

"And where's my father?" Aladdin asked, his heart sinking as a horrible thought occurred to him. "Is he all right?"

The parrot brushed off Aladdin's concerned question with a wave of his wing. "Yeah, he's fine. He's at your old hovel, layin' low. He's not stupid. He knows he can't come in here." He rolled his eyes. "We came back because _I_ needed to tell you something. Well, he says he needs to tell you somethin', too, but I can't imagine that it's any more important than what I—"

"Iago!" the Prince of Agrabah shouted.

The bird rolled his eyes again and cleared his throat, looking offended for having been interrupted, but he got to the point. "Mozenrath…" he looked around the room at its occupants, "is back!"

Everyone in the room, save Sadira, let out a gasp. Carpet even took a step backwards in shock.

"Oh no!" Dhandi cried.

"Who's Mozenrath?" asked Sadira, confused, as she had never heard of him. However, her question was ignored as Iago continued to explain.

"Cassim and I were in this tavern in a village about twenty, fifty—I don't know how many miles away—and Mozenrath came barging in, wanting food. And guess what? Your old man paid for his meal! I thought he had gone insane. I mean, come on, just because you've gone good all of a sudden doesn't mean you have to go _that_ good! I'm tellin' ya! I briefed him on Jafar Junior on the way over here! Needless to say, I bet he feels bad about bein' such a nice guy now! If not, then he really _is_ goin' crazy!"

"The gauntlet is still safe in the treasury, right?" Jasmine asked Aladdin worriedly.

"I think so," Aladdin said as he stood up from the floor. "I can't imagine it being gone. I haven't touched it since we last put it there."

"Well, ya better go back and put it in an even safer place than the treasury, because, if I recall correctly, which, as you know, I always do, Mozenrath KNOWS WHERE THE TREASURY IS!" Iago shouted, as though the others in the room were complete morons.

And the bird was right, Aladdin suddenly realized. Mozenrath _did_ know where the treasury was and that the gauntlet had been hidden there, because he had tried to steal it while in Aladdin's body, and after defeating him, Aladdin and the others had made no move to change its location, thinking that it would still be safe.

"We'll get the guards to stand watch," said Jasmine. Aladdin nodded in agreement. However, Iago was displeased.

"Oh, that's it! We're _really_ doomed this time!" the parrot squawked in his signature pessimistic way.

"Don't worry, Iago." Aladdin said reassuringly. "From the sound of it, Mozenrath is in pretty bad shape. I doubt he'll be coming by any time soon." He only hoped he was right. It was hard for him to believe his own words at times.

"Shows what you know," the bird retorted.

Aladdin ignored him. "I'm gonna go see Dad."

"I'll go with you," Jasmine insisted. "Sadira, can you stay here with Dhandi? We'll be back soon."

"Sure thing," the Princess's frizzy haired friend nodded, "We'll have fun."

"Doing what?" Dhandi inquired in a tone of voice that told the others that she didn't want to be treated like a little girl and be forced to play with dolls for five hours, or however long they would be gone.

"How about we play solitaire?" suggested Sadira. "Now, that's a game I actually understand. It's usually for just one person, but we can play head-to-head." She reached into her pocket and pulled out an old deck of cards.

Aladdin blinked in wonderment at how such a clumsy girl, in his opinion, could be any good at competitive card games. But, he shook it off.

"Okay, let's go," he said. "Dad's waiting."

By the time they arrived at Aladdin's hovel, the sun had set, and Cassim was sitting at the window, waiting for them. Father and son smiled and embraced, but Aladdin noticed that his father's smile was small and weak compared to his own.

"So, what's going on, Dad?" he asked, not understanding what could be the matter.

Cassim took a deep breath and stared at his hands for a moment. "Aladdin, I…sit down."

Aladdin nodded and took a seat on the window sill next to where his father had been sitting. Cassim reassumed his own spot.

"I…I have something I must tell you." The older man looked deeply into his son's eyes, looking almost haunted. It was evident to Aladdin that something was bothering him greatly.

"Okay…" the younger man glanced at his wife, Iago, and Abu, telling them to sit down as well. Carpet laid himself out on the floor for them. "What is it?"

Cassim put a hand over his mouth and looked down again. He sighed. "I want you to know, first of all, that I didn't lie to you about this…" Aladdin felt his face grow hot. Now he was worried. "I.. _omitted_ it because I didn't want to burden you with any more pain than I was already causing. You didn't deserve any more. Besides, you were so happy with your new life, and I assumed telling you would only make you feel more sorrowful than you should have been. But, now…I think you must know…."

There was a long pause as Aladdin and the others stared at Cassim. Even Iago was silent.

"What is it, Dad?" Aladdin finally asked after a few seconds. "It's okay. You can tell me…I promise I won't get angry with you, whatever it is." Right after he said that, he knew it had been a mistake. After all, he had no idea what his father was about to tell him! For all Aladdin knew, Cassim could have once killed a man.

The former King of Thieves let out another sigh and looked his son firmly in the eye again. "Aladdin…your mother and I had another son."

Aladdin felt his eyes grow wide and his heart leap out of his chest. Iago let out a loud squawk, which Abu silenced with a punch to the bird's ribs.

"What?" was all the young man could muster. It came out as a whisper, a question, as though he hadn't quite comprehended what his father had just said.

But, he had.

"He disappeared about three months before you were born," Cassim explained slowly. "It was his third birthday," he swallowed hard, as if he were choking back painful memories. "Your mother and I took him to the marketplace to buy him a gift. I carried him in my arms the entire time, until I put him down to talk to a merchant…" Cassim's eyes were wide and his voice became panicked. "It was only a few seconds! Not even half a minute! But…" he shook his head, "when I turned to pick him back up, he was gone… It destroyed our lives! Your mother became so depressed and miserable! She wept constantly and never left our bed! And I—I spent the next months, all of my time and money, looking for him. By the time you were born, we were so poor that I couldn't even afford to put food on the table! I had to leave Agrabah so that I could find more money." He looked up at his son. "I wanted a better life for you and your mother. I couldn't fail you…like I failed him." A tear appeared in his eye, but he quickly wiped it away. "So, I gave your mother my dagger and told her to give it to you when you were old enough, just in case something happened and I never returned. A few years passed, and I fell in with the forty thieves. I was so depressed about my life that I became... _consumed_ by greed and…." He trailed off and suddenly buried his face in his hands, letting the tears flow.

Aladdin sat there in shock. He didn't know what to think nor could he imagine the pain that Cassim must have been feeling, the guilt that must have been plaguing him all of these years. He then felt tears well up in his own eyes as he wrapped his arms around his crying father.

"Dad…." There was silence as the two men closed their eyes and wept, Aladdin almost forgetting that Jasmine and his friends were among them.

Finally, they pulled apart and Aladdin wiped his cheeks. Cassim did the same. "It's ok, Dad…it wasn't your fault. You did nothing wrong."

"But, I _did_!" Cassim refused to believe otherwise. "If I hadn't put him down…or if I had only held onto his hand…."

"Dad, no," Aladdin shook his head. "You couldn't have known that would have happened."

But, then, something occurred to him.

"Why are you bringing this up now?" He had to ask. There must have been a reason. By his father's own admission, he had had no intention of telling Aladdin anything about having had another child before him, not wanting to ruin his surviving son's happiness, but now, all of a sudden, he had.

Cassim looked up and wiped his eyes again. "Because…because I think I found him."

Aladdin looked around at the others. They all looked just as shocked as he felt. Iago's beak was hanging open and Abu was suddenly chattering noisily about something that Aladdin couldn't make out. Jasmine just stared at her husband.

"Uh oh," Iago breathed. He sounded frightened about something, but Aladdin didn't know—or care—what it could be. He was too preoccupied by his own thoughts...

Of happiness.

His face split into another smile and he gave his father another hug, one that, he didn't notice, Cassim did not return.

"Oh Dad!" he exclaimed. "This is—this is—the most wonderful thing in the world! You _found_ him? Where is-?"

But he stopped talking as he saw the look on his father's face. It was one of absolute dread and fear.

"Dad…." He didn't understand the look at all. "Why do you look so upset? This is a miracle! You can have _both_ of your sons back! I mean, how often does that happen?"

Cassim remained silent.

"I don't understand…." Aladdin was confused. This was indeed a miracle, if, in fact, Cassim really _had_ found his older son! They would have to make absolutely certain, of course, but the fact that Cassim had a feeling about who the young man was, it was just…beyond anything Aladdin could describe. So, why did his father look so distraught?

"Aladdin…." Jasmine began at the same moment that Iago uttered "Al…."

But, Aladdin wasn't listening to them. His gaze and his attention were focused on his father.

"Aladdin," Cassim finally spoke. "If I tell you who I think he is, you won't believe me…."

That threw the young man off. "What?" he asked for what had to be at least the second time that night. "What do you mean?"

He thought for a moment, and then he asked in astonishment when he realized what his father was saying: "He's...someone I _know_?"

Cassim's voice was so low when he responded that Aladdin could barely hear him. "Yes."

The Prince stood up in excitement. "Well, who is he, Dad? Tell me!" It could have been anyone. He thought of all the young men he had met and gotten to know throughout the years. What a wonderful thing it would have been had his brother turned out to be someone like, say, his old friend Amal!

That was when Jasmine, Iago, Abu, and even Carpet, rose from the floor and walked toward him with the same looks of dread and fear that Cassim had had on his face. It was as though they all knew something that he didn't, but Aladdin was at a loss as to what that could be.

Finally, Jasmine put a hand on her husband's shoulder and spoke. "Cassim, what was your older son's name?"

Aladdin's father did not take his eyes off of his younger son as he answered. "His name…was Mozenrath."


	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys! Here's Chapter Four! I hope you like everything so far! Please remember to review. I really appreciate it when you do!

Thanks,

May

 **Brother Dearest—Chapter Four**

Without a second thought, Mozenrath had grabbed the carpet from the floor and hopped onto it, commanding that it transport him and Xerxes to the Land of the Black Sand. He didn't know if the rug was magical or not, but there was no harm in trying. Besides, he had just bludgeoned a woman to death, and the faster he left the village before anyone discovered that she was dead, the better.

As it turned out, the woman had been telling the truth about the carpet. It _could_ fly, and it took commands. Before long, it had brought Mozenrath and his eel, much faster than the young wizard would have thought possible, to the Citadel. It was late afternoon by the time they had reached it, but they had done so in only a few hours' time, nonetheless. It was quite a feat.

Mozenrath went straight to his bedchamber, stripped off his disgusting excuse for clothes, and washed the old woman's blood, sand, dirt, and whatever other filth he had accumulated over the last few months, off with the finest of spices, perfumes, and oils that he possessed. It was wonderful, the first bath he had had in who knew how long.

Nothing about the deed he had just done bothered him, really, apart from the stench of the blood. After all, he had done the same to Destane and Amin Damoola, as well as countless others, without the slightest flinch or hesitation. Having killed before, he thought nothing of what he had done to this particular woman nor did he care what the villagers would think of him once they found out that he was the murderer. No, he didn't care what they thought of him, because, soon, he would rule over all of them. He would have his gauntlet back momentarily, and then he would proceed with his plans for world conquest.

That is, after he killed Aladdin.

He clenched his fists as he lay in the luxurious marble tub, his body immersed in the warm water, his nostrils taking in all of the marvelous scents around him. _Aladdin._

Now, it was all perfectly clear.

At first, he had not believed what the old woman had shown him. He had thought that seeing the face of his greatest enemy emanating from the transparent glass ball was some sort of hoax to scare or torment him even further. It was not until the woman lay dead at his feet that he realized the truth.

He and the street rat were _brothers._

And the worst part was that, deep down, he felt that he had known all along. Well, maybe not exactly that, but _something_. Ever since he had seen the younger man in Agrabah's bazaar that day, he had felt _something,_ something connecting the two of them, for better or for worse, and now he knew just what it was.

He dunked his head underneath the warm water as he tried to remember _anything_ —anything at all—about his life before Destane.

But, try as he might, there was nothing. He concluded that one of two things had happened: either Destane had somehow wiped Mozenrath's memory of his family, or he had simply been too young to recall them upon being taken under Destane's apprenticeship.

Mozenrath lifted his head out of the water. That was when he remembered the man from the tavern, the man whom he now knew to be his father. Thinking back on it, the man had favored Aladdin in looks quite a bit. Same eyes, same nose. Mozenrath scolded himself inwardly for not having seen that the street rat and the kind stranger were related right away.

He wondered how he and Aladdin had become separated from the man in the first place. Had he loved them? Or was his fatherhood a classic case of childhood abandonment?

Yes, the young wizard thought as he ran his flesh fingers through his now sweet-smelling hair. That had to have been it. How else had Aladdin wound up on the street if they had had a father who truly cared about and looked after them? Furthermore, if the man _were_ a loving father, how had _Mozenrath_ ended up as Destane's ward? A real father would not give his son away to a renowned evil sorcerer. Not willingly, at least.

At that moment, Mozenrath vowed that he would destroy his father, too. Eventually. He would turn his attention toward his brother first. Perhaps he would capture and torture him before his murder, thereby tormenting their father, if, indeed, Aladdin's demise _were_ a source of torment for the man. Mozenrath wasn't sure. What he was sure of, however, was that he could not allow a man like his father around if _he_ , Mozenrath, were going to take the world as his own, and, as he had told the old woman, he always took revenge on anyone who wronged him, and his father was no exception. To do so was one of many things he had learned from Destane.

 _Ah, Destane._ Mozenrath stretched his arms and smiled cruelly as he remembered the old sorcerer.

Destane himself had not been a terrible father figure, as many would assume, however. In fact, he had been quite loving, having treated Mozenrath well and affectionately, most certainly better than Mozenrath's own father had ever treated him. The young sorcerer was now sure about that. But, the old wizard was weak and overly prideful, and as such, thought little of the small boy's magical abilities compared to his own and had underestimated him. It was something that Mozenrath could never understand fully, as Destane had taught the boy everything he himself knew, so why even think for a moment that the boy would not try to overpower him eventually? It was pure arrogance and foolishness, a dangerous oversight. However, his teachings _had_ opened the door for even more on Mozenrath's part, as Mozenrath had now become even more powerful and had accomplished more than his predecessor ever had.

The old wizard had taught Mozenrath to never give up, to have confidence in everything he did, and, most importantly—Mozenrath let out a laugh upon remembering this—to never allow anyone to stand in his way, for any reason. It was this final teaching that had led to Destane's doom, for by relaying this simple value to his young apprentice, he had dug his own grave.

And now, almost eight years later, Mozenrath would dig Aladdin's, for he was a thorn in the young sorcerer's side that must be dealt with! If anything had changed at all about Mozenrath after learning that he and his greatest enemy were, in fact, siblings, it was his feelings toward the street rat.

His jealousy and hatred of the younger man had increased beyond anything the young wizard could imagine, for now Aladdin was his competition in more ways than just being a fellow _ruler_ (or, in Aladdin's case, _future_ fellow ruler, as Jasmine's father was still the Sultan of Agrabah, last Mozenrath checked) with whom Mozenrath quarreled for power. Now, he was Mozenrath's competition in who was the more powerful—and therefore, the greater— _brother_.

The young man rose from the tub. He brushed his dark curls until they were smooth and silky and his teeth until they were pearly white again. Finally, he dressed himself in new attire, complete with new robe, cape, and turban. As he looked at his now clean and perfectly groomed form in the mirror, he swelled with confidence and grinned broadly, for tonight was the night that he finished his brother.

For good.

He turned on his booted heel and made his way to the old woman's magic carpet, which was now lying in his throne room with Xerxes. With the eel by his side, he demanded that the rug take him to Agrabah's palace treasury, where the beginning of his victory awaited.

Upon arriving at his destination, the sun had set completely and he found that the treasury was dark and devoid of human presence. Mozenrath smiled again. Good. No one would be able to spot him. It would make everything much easier.

The carpet hovered near a closed window and the young wizard had to balance himself on the rug carefully as he inspected the lock, which, he found, was not that hard to break at all. In a way, Mozenrath was shocked to learn this. This was a _palace_! How was it that everything about it was so easy to penetrate? The engineers and architects who had designed the place had obviously not been expecting much in the way of intruders! That, or the designs were so old that no one had thought to update them in recent years.

Either way, how incredibly stupid.

With a gesture of his flesh hand, Mozenrath told Xerxes to give him the tiny wrench that the eel had been carrying in his mouth. The slimy creature nodded and spat out the tool for his master's use, and within a matter of seconds, the window was opened. The carpet glided through gracefully and descended to the floor.

Mozenrath stepped off of the rug, lit a small lantern that he had brought from the Citadel, and took in his surroundings. Piles upon piles of jewels, gold, and trinkets of the grandest value lay around him, but he, unlike a petty, ordinary thief, had no interest in any of it. He had but one object in mind.

"Chest! Chest! Chest!" Xerxes let out a quiet hiss as he spoke, pointing his fin toward the corner of the room. Mozenrath turned his head to where the eel was excitedly looking, and his eyes grew wide.

There it was, in plain sight: a wooden box, roughly the size of a loaf of bread, covered in intricate carvings and sitting on a clothed table. It was the same wooden box that had housed the gauntlet the last time.

Mozenrath nearly scoffed, mildly offended by this. He had thought upon his arrival that Aladdin might have made the taking of the gauntlet challenging for his enemy (or for anyone who tried to steal from the treasury, for that matter). However, that appeared not to be the case.

Yet.

The wizard took a few steps toward the table, cautiously, waiting for some absurd and magical trap made by the Jinni to emerge from nowhere. However, when nothing happened, Mozenrath quickened his pace. In a few seconds, he was standing in front of the chest, examining its lock for the second time.

And just like the previous time, the lock required no tools to undo. The clasp simply undid itself once Mozenrath had pushed it upward.

Hmm…

Mozenrath took another look around him, expecting something or someone to come barging in.

He waited a few moments, his flesh thumb and index finger on the lock. Beside him, Xerxes let out a long drool in anticipation.

Nothing. No footsteps, no voices, no lights suddenly shining from underneath the treasury doors to indicate that anyone was coming. All was quiet and dark, except for the light of Mozenrath's own lantern, which was illuminating the chest before him.

Finally, he nodded to himself and made his move.

He opened the lid of the chest, and his heart lept as he took in the sight of his treasured glove, plain and brown, lying inside. Without hesitation, he grabbed it and slid it over the bones of his right hand. Xerxes cackled in triumph and started flying around his master.

The glove began to glow. A feeling of euphoria, unlike any he had ever felt before, coursed through the young sorcerer's body as the gauntlet's power radiated throughout him.

He was back.

* * *

It was as if time had stopped, but the Earth's spinning speed had increased by a thousand percent. He was dizzy, his vision was growing dark, and every memory that he ever possessed was flashing in his mind.

He had forgotten where he was as he stood there near the window of his hovel, frozen, unable to move or make a sound. He was not even aware of Jasmine stroking his hair or of Cassim gently taking his hand in his own. They were trying to comfort him in the only ways they knew how for this magnitude of shock.

After what seemed like an eternity, a single word escaped Aladdin's lips in the same fashion as the word "what" had moments ago.

"No."

Again, the word was a mere whisper, a weak sound, barely audible to those around him. However, unlike the "what," it did not come out as a question, but, as a statement of denial, as the word often does.

"Aladdin…." His wife's soft, shaky uttering of his name finally brought him back into her plane of existence.

And as soon as he came back, he collapsed into the arms of the Princess of Agrabah and the former King of Thieves.

"No," the young man repeated. This time, the word was stronger, harsher, and firmer.

"No!" Finally, it came out as a shout.

"IT'S NOT TRUE!" He had found his voice for good and was going to use it to the best of his ability. "It—it—it— _can't_ be true!"

Struggling out of the grasps of his wife and father, he slapped himself hard in the face and closed his eyes so that he could open them again. He had to wake himself up, because this was _not_ true! It was a dream, a nightmare. That, or it was another one of Mirage's dark crystal illusions!

It _had_ to be!

"Aladdin..." Jasmine repeated his name with more sadness than her husband had ever heard in her voice before.

He opened his eyes slowly to take in his surroundings, hoping against hope that he would be sitting up in bed, but his heart sank as he realized:

Neither was he dreaming nor was this any illusion brought on by the likes of the evil feline enchantress.

This was reality.

"Son…" Cassim had tears running down his face again, but now he was not making any move to wipe them away as he stared at Aladdin. "I'm so sorry."

The Prince took a deep breath and his stomach flipped as he staggered back toward the window of his hovel.

And for the second time that night, he vomited, this time out of the window and down onto the gravel alley below.

When he turned back toward the others, he noticed that Jasmine had tears on her face, too. Abu and Iago had their heads hung low, and Carpet was drooping with sadness. Cassim was now watching his son with concern, as though afraid that he might fall out of the window and to his death.

Aladdin swallowed hard and tried to clear his throat, which was now very parched.

"How…how did you find out that the Mozenrath we know was your son?" he managed to ask his father hoarsely.

Cassim sighed and walked toward his son, gently taking hold of the younger man's shoulders to steady him. "When he came running into the tavern, I thought nothing of him. His name didn't even register with me until after Iago had said it a second time. That was when I became curious. I didn't want to jump to conclusions, but I had to know… I had to get a good look at him…So I walked up to the counter and, when I saw his face…I knew." Aladdin saw his father's eyes glisten with the memory of his little son. "I _knew_ he was my son. He was so haggard and pale, more than I could ever imagine him being, but he had my chin, and my nose, just as you do, Aladdin."

Aladdin's heart sank even further at his father's words.

Cassim's voice broke as he continued to speak. "And his curls…his eyes…even his lips!" He nodded as he remembered his older son. "They were your mother's."

Another long moment of silence passed before Aladdin embraced his father once more. Everyone else stood quietly, not wanting to interrupt the touching moment.

Until Abu let out a screech so loud that everyone in Agrabah could hear it.

Cassim and Aladdin broke apart, startled, and whipped their heads around. Aladdin's stomach dropped to the floor in horror at what he saw.

There, levitating themselves just above the threshold of the window, were Mozenrath and his flying eel Xerxes, surrounded by the glowing light of–Aladdin let out a gasp—the gauntlet!

Abu continued to screech, Iago began flying around in a panic, yelling about how they were all going to die, and Jasmine threw her arms around her husband, fearing that he might vanish at any moment.

But, Aladdin and Cassim remained still as Mozenrath eyed them both with a wicked smile on his handsome face.

"Well, well, well," Cassim's older son chuckled lightly. "Isn't this a pleasant surprise? A family reunion." His tone was light, smooth, and mockingly kind, as always. Then, his full lips became sarcastically pouty. "I'm sad it has to end."

Before Aladdin had a chance to react, however, the young wizard raised his gauntleted hand and blasted his brother with such power that the Prince flew back into the stone wall, causing the entirety of the old building to shake violently. Aladdin cried out in agony as he felt the bones in his left leg shatter.

But, Mozenrath wasn't finished with him. No. Without a word, he used his gauntlet's power to pick up his brother once more, as easily as though he were a rag doll, and threw him against the wall again. This time, Aladdin's ribs cracked and blood seeped through his shirt where his chest had made contact with the wall.

"Aladdin!" Jasmine screamed.

"Mozenrath! Stop it! Now!" Cassim shouted authoritatively. To Aladdin, it sounded as though he were trying to rebuke the young wizard for his actions in a fatherly manner, as if his older son were still a little boy. His younger son pitied him, for many years had passed, and whoever Mozenrath had been as a toddler, he no longer was.

Mozenrath himself apparently noticed his father's tone as well, because he let out a horrible laugh, while using his magic to draw the injured Aladdin to his chest. Any outsider would have thought that the older brother was cradling the younger as to show affection, or, even yet, to protect him.

How ironic!

"Do you really think I'm going to take orders from you, _Dad_?" the wizard asked. The last word was spoken with a great, dark malice. "Ha! No one tells me what to do!"

And with one movement of his cape that engulfed himself, Xerxes, and Aladdin, Mozenrath disappeared, leaving the others alone.

And hopeless.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey everybody! Do you guys ever find yourselves rereading your chapters over and over again, looking for the tiniest of grammatical errors, even after they're published and you had people beta read them? I must have updated Chapters Two and Three at least four times by now for fluidity, parallel structure, misplaced modifiers, and every other form of grammar there is. I think I'm getting a bit obsessive about it. I was just wondering if anyone else has had the same problem. Anyway, thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorite, followed, etc! Please continue to do so! I need to know how I'm doing with this! Here's Chapter Five!

Love ya!

May

P.S. I decided to cut this part into two chapters, just so you know! I thought it would be a little bit too long of a read to put everything all in one. Plus, I just love doing cliffhangers because they keep everybody in suspense! Enjoy!

 **Brother Dearest—Chapter Five**

The searing, white hot pain in his leg and chest worsened tremendously when Aladdin landed, hard, onto a cold marble plane. He let out another cry of pure agony as he hit the smooth surface, and his eyes closed tightly on his receiving the blow to his badly broken body brought on by the sheer hardness of the opulent stone.

A few moments passed as he lie there, and he soon realized that he had to be somewhere inside Mozenrath's Citadel. Where else would the wizard take him with such a sleek, polished floor? This place certainly wasn't Dagger Rock.

Gingerly, he opened his eyes and, as everything came into focus, he discovered that his speculation had been correct. He was lying on the floor of the Citadel's throne room, which was now brightly lit by candles all around it.

Lifting his head ever so slightly so that he would not strain the muscles in his chest, Aladdin caught sight of his brother perched upon his throne. Mozenrath was seated lazily in the grand chair with his legs positioned in a fashion that was in no way appropriate for any ruler anywhere, not even for the barbarian Prince Uncouthma of Odiferous, Aladdin was sure. The Prince of Agrabah then watched as the sorcerer conjured up a goblet from thin air with a simple turn of his gauntlet-covered hand.

Aladdin highly doubted that the elegant cup was filled with water, or even any sort of magical potion, but rather with some kind of alcoholic beverage. This _was_ Mozenrath, after all. Aladdin couldn't imagine that the self-made Lord of the Black Sand followed _any_ command in the Quran.

The young wizard began to sip the liquid slowly and tilted his head to one side as he eyed his now coherent captive.

"Feeling all right, little bro?" He asked the question with an expression of seemingly deep curiosity on his face and took another sip, not shifting his gaze from Aladdin as he did so. "Want some?" His expression did not change as he nodded toward the drink in his gauntleted hand. To the untrained eye, it looked as though he truly cared and was sincerely offering a taste of his unknown beverage to the severely injured young man lying just a few feet in front of him. But, then, as he always did, he gave Aladdin his trademark smirk of sarcasm. "Oh, that's right! I forgot. Under Islamic law, brandy and the like aren't permitted in your kingdom, are they? Hmm….What a shame—" he shook his head in a mocking gesture of disappointment and took yet a third sip of the strong spirit before finishing his sentence "—because this stuff is _damn_ good."

Aladdin felt Mozenrath's eyes continue to watch him maliciously as the former street rat decided to make an attempt at turning himself onto his back. He wanted to prevent any more of the hard floor's surface from pressing against his chest, and he suddenly found it very hard to breathe! He was now very worried that a broken rib had punctured one–or worse, _both_ —of his lungs, and if that were the case, then he knew that there was a chance that a potentially fatal amount of fluid was collecting itself inside of him.

Finally, with great anguish and difficulty, he succeeded at his task. But, it made no difference to his situation, and now, as he lie on his back, the horror began to set in.

He knew that he could not put up anything _remotely_ resembling a fight in his condition, let alone make an escape. He was trapped. He was helpless….

He was completely at Mozenrath's mercy.

Thoughts of Jasmine, his father, and everyone else he loved came to his mind as he lie in the middle of the large room, trying to keep himself as still as possible so as to dull the terrible pain as best he could. He prayed that his loved ones were all right and that no harm had come to them. But, then he realized that they must be on their way here, because they would not leave him for Mozenrath to kill. They would fight for him until their last breaths, he knew. Tears came to his eyes as he hoped against hope that they would survive this ordeal. However, without Genie's magic to help protect them, he doubted that they stood much of a chance.

Feeling nothing but defeat and sadness at this thought, he closed his eyes again and waited for Mozenrath to send a deadly blast of magic at him. Then, after several long moments of silence, he heard the wizard rise from his throne. Aladdin took in the faint sound of boots approaching his hopeless form. He could even feel the soft vibrations of Mozenrath's footsteps as they made contact with the floor beneath the younger man's body.

Once the sensations had stopped, the Prince reopened his eyes to see his older brother standing over him. The wizard still held the goblet in his hand, but was now gently moving it around in a circular motion, stirring the brandy within.

He then drank from the cup a fourth time (at least) and smiled in his strangely amused way.

"You know, I have to admit that looking down at you and knowing that you're my brother is quite strange," he commented.

Of course. Aladdin realized that he should have expected this kind of behavior from his captor. Now that he finally had his greatest enemy in his grasp for good, the evil young wizard was going to have as much fun with him as he could. He would torture his little brother and watch him suffer for however long he desired before killing him.

Or, before he died on his own...

But, be that as it may, Aladdin was curious about something and couldn't help asking the sorcerer.

"How did you find out?" the Prince asked in a voice that he knew was barely audible. However, he couldn't speak above a whisper due to the condition of his ribs and lungs. It was impossible with the pain being so unbearable. "About us?"

He needed to know this, among others things concerning Mozenrath, before he died. He began a list in his head of the most important questions that he had ever had about the wizard.

But to Aladdin's surprise, Mozenrath did not seem bothered by his brother's inquiry in the least. He merely leaned his head back and took a large, extremely unaristocratic swig from the cup. He then licked his lips to rid them of the intoxicant before replying.

"An old witch in a village far away," the wizard said informatively. "She had the ability to learn about others through their emotions, and when she sensed mine, she discovered my past and told me about it. Not that I believed her at first. Actually, it wasn't until after I had killed her that I realized she had been telling the truth. Whoops." He shrugged his shoulders.

Aladdin was not at all surprised by this revelation of murder. As a matter of fact, he had expected nothing less from the young sorcerer. He also knew that Mozenrath was very proud of what he had done.

Murder. Destruction. Torture. Enslavement. None of those things affected Mozenrath in the slightest. To commit any of these acts was as easy and as thoughtless for him as was tying the laces of his boot.

This fact, however, brought Aladdin to his next question.

"Why do you want to kill me?"

The sorcerer let out a laugh that echoed around the room, and with another huge swig of his brandy, he looked at his brother with hatred in his eyes.

Unexpectedly, he crouched down to Aladdin's level so that his own face was mere inches from the Prince's. The former street rat could now smell the alcohol on Mozenrath's breath.

"Because you're in my way," the older brother responded as if it were a simple fact. "You had your chance to join me, don't you remember? I offered you wealth and power the first time we met, in the bazaar, because I saw something in you: a potential for greatness. But, when you refused me, you became a thorn in my side that I had to vanquish. "

 _A potential for greatness?_ Aladdin would have been staunchly arguing against this, perhaps even laughing at it, had he been in good physical health. How in the world was being evil akin to greatness?

He could not understand how he was related to someone like Mozenrath. But, then, suddenly, he remembered their father's love for his oldest boy.

"Dad loves you, you know." It was by far the most important thing he could say to his brother.

Not that it would change anything, of course, but he had to get it out. He had to let the young sorcerer know the truth about his family.

Mozenrath raised his eyebrows and scoffed at this statement. "What?"

"He does. So much," Aladdin insisted, his soft voice shaking with the pain in his lungs. "And I know he wants a relationship with you. I saw it in his face. He _misses_ you. He and Mom, they went crazy when you disappeared. Absolutely crazy…. He told me the whole story."

The Prince looked into his brother's eyes, trying to see if there was any hint of goodness behind them. But, to his dismay, he saw nothing.

"It was your birthday. You were three, and they took you to the marketplace to buy you a present. Dad was holding you, but, when he put you down for a moment, you vanished. You probably just wandered off. A lot of little kids do that. But, Dad, he was so upset. He spent all of our money looking for you, and then a few months later, when I was born, he had to leave to find more. He never got over what happened to you. He still blames himself so badly, and Mom…" Tears formed in Aladdin's eyes again as he remembered what little he could of their mother. "She died when I was little. She never told me about you, probably because she thought it would be too heart-breaking for me, but I was aware that something bothered her. She was always so sad and distant…and now I know why...She wanted you back."

But, Mozenrath shook his head. He was not moved by this, not one little bit.

"I don't care what excuses you give me for them!" he shouted, suddenly draining the last of the brandy with one giant swallow. He threw the empty goblet to the floor, where it landed with a loud crash that echoed violently around the room. "They're all lies! I hate them both, just like they hated me! A real father who loved his child would never let him wander away, under any circumstance! It just proves that he didn't care about me enough to keep an eye on me! And our _mother_!" He sneered. "What the _hell_ did she have to cry over? She was given a whole new son, a perfect son, when she bore you! You, who get everything you want just because of luck when I had to suffer so much for power!"

And now Aladdin knew the real truth. Mozenrath was jealous of him and his happiness, not understanding that he could have the same if only he opened his heart. That was why he wanted him dead.

The wizard turned his back and let out an angry scream, startling his brother.

Then, without warning, Mozenrath turned around to face Aladdin again, a fire now lit in his eyes. He bent down and slapped the younger man hard across the face with his gauntleted hand. The Prince gasped in more pain.

But, the sorcerer wasn't finished with him yet.

Before Aladdin knew what was happening, Mozenrath had pounced squarely onto his body, forcing his own weight onto both his brother's shattered leg and his chest. The former street rat let out the loudest, most blood-curdling scream ever heard in all of the Seven Deserts as the unimaginable pain shot through him. But, then he choked on the blood that had risen in his throat and he was instantly silenced.

* * *

Carpet was flying faster than he ever had in all the years he had been "alive." In fact, he was going at such a great speed that his occupants had to keep a tight grip on him so that they wouldn't fall off. All of them except for Abu, that is. He had his arms securely around Jasmine's neck, acting very much like the little monkey that he was.

"What did I tell ya? What did I tell ya?" Iago was shouting at Cassim. "I _told_ you he would get the gauntlet back! It may have taken him a few more hours than I predicted it would, but my point is, he did it in less than a day!"

Abu shook his little fist and started chattering something to the bird in his usual monkey speak. Jasmine didn't know exactly what he was saying, but she assumed it was a rebuke, and if it was, then she agreed whole-heartedly with it.

"Iago!" the Princess began scolding the parrot herself. "This is not Cassim's fault. If anything, it's _ours_! We put the gauntlet back in the same spot with no extra security! _We're_ the idiots!"

"I didn't say _you_ _weren't_ ," the bird retorted, putting a particularly harsh emphasis on the word "you" in order to say that he had nothing to do with this at all. Jasmine glared at him. "I'm just sayin' that Cassim gave Wiz Brat a head start by givin' him some early morning energy!"

Oddly enough, it was Cassim who turned the conversation back to the reason why they were heading to Mozenrath's kingdom in the first place.

"It doesn't matter whose fault it is," the man said, his deep voice still completely smooth and calm despite Iago having yelled at him. "What matters is that we save Aladdin."

Jasmine nodded. She couldn't agree more. She thought of her darling Aladdin and how badly injured he had become, how much he must have been suffering.

 _Don't worry, Aladdin. We're coming. Just hold on,_ she thought. Even though her husband could not hear her thoughts, she meant the words as a comfort for him, to let him know that they would be with him soon.

That was when she spotted their destination.

Finally.

Even though clouds covered most of the landscape, Jasmine could still make out the dark kingdom in the distance. As always, the Land of the Black Sand was nothing short of foreboding. The Princess of Agrabah saw that there were no street lamps, no lanterns, no candles or torches, nothing to give them light once they landed save for the glowing crystals that Mozenrath had placed throughout the land to alert him of magical intruders. However, no one cared that Mozenrath knew they were there this time. It was something that Jasmine was sure he expected, actually. He knew that Aladdin's wife and his father would come to rescue him. It was no secret. In fact, as they inched closer and closer to the kingdom, Jasmine became worried that Mozenrath had prepared for just that.

Yet, Jasmine and the others had not come prepared themselves. They did not have Genie's magic to protect them nor did they have any weapons to defend themselves from any attacks by Mamluks, Mozenrath's undead servants. They would have to rely solely on their own physical abilities and wit. It was something that they had never had to do before. At least, not in any situation of this magnitude.

The Princess then gasped as she realized that they hadn't even told anyone of their undertaking, not her father, not the guards, not even Sadira, because they had left so quickly and impulsively, mere moments after Aladdin had vanished! That meant that if something happened to them, no one would know where to start looking.

But, it was too late. They could not do anything about any of that now. They could not go back. They _had_ to continue forward, and that was what they were going to do. As Jasmine thought once more of her dearly beloved husband, her heart became more determined than ever. She was sure that Cassim's heart was going through the same transformation as he thought of saving his son.

Predictably, right as Carpet descended to the ground a little ways outside of Mozenrath's palace, the crystals lit up, illuminating the kingdom. Briefly. The glowing soon faded, leaving the outsiders in the dark once more.

As she stepped off of Carpet, Jasmine sent up a prayer for a miracle, asking Allah that, somehow, He would deliver them from this evil and bring them all home safely.

She felt Abu tighten his arms around her neck and begin to shiver. Fear of this dreadful place must have been settling into him. Poor Abu. He was usually so brave. She knew that Aladdin's terrible predicament was taking a toll on him.

"It's okay, Abu," she whispered, patting his hand lightly. "It's going to be fine."

The monkey loosened his frantic grip at her reassurance, but then he whimpered as if to say "I'm still so afraid."

She understood his feelings, for she was afraid, too. Who wouldn't be? It had to be the scariest thing that she had ever experienced, to have her husband kidnapped by his own brother. True, this was not the first time it had happened, but now, it was seven thousand percent more dangerous than the last, because, now, Mozenrath had an even bigger reason to want Aladdin dead. As his sibling, Aladdin was a much larger threat, for more reasons than Jasmine could name. Besides, she knew in her heart what Mozenrath's intentions for her husband were, and they were _not_ to suddenly form a good relationship with his brother.

They were to kill him.

Tears formed behind her eyes as she thought of this, but she did not let herself shed them. No. She would remain strong for her beloved.

Cassim stood beside her and linked his arm with hers as they began walking toward the Citadel. She smiled at her father-in-law, knowing that he was trying to comfort her as her own father would have.

"Hey, wait! We don't even know if Al's here! What if that's just what Mozie wants us to think? What if he's leading us on a wild goose chase?" Iago asked worriedly. Jasmine could hear his wings flapping like a paper fan on Cassim's other side as she looked straight ahead.

Although they were in the dark, she could vaguely see the giant snake carvings on the outside of Mozenrath's doors growing larger as they moved closer to the magnificent building.

"He's here," Jasmine responded, absolutely certain. She could feel it in her bones. "I know he is."

But, she didn't have any time to elaborate on just how certain she was, because, within an instant, Mamluks—along with Xerxes—appeared before them with swords, ready to attack.


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys! Here's Chapter Six! I just wanted to say that I had a lot of fun writing this one. It's probably one of my favorites so far. It _is_ a bit shorter than the last, but I hope you enjoy it all the same. This chapter is also a very pivotal point in the story, as I'm sure you guys probably already figured it would be. It's not the _only_ pivotal point, but it's one of them. Please remember to review after you've finished reading! Thanks a bunch.

Love ya lots,

May

 **Brother Dearest—Chapter Six**

There were nine Mamluks standing in front of them, and each one looked ready to kill. Jasmine and Cassim hurriedly unlinked their arms. The two humans then put themselves into fighting stances with little to no idea how they were going to get through this without Genie's help. They both knew that they were physically strong and agile, Cassim more so than Jasmine in terms of the former and Jasmine more so than Cassim in terms of the latter, but those qualities only took them so far when the likes of swords were staring them in the face.

Ironically, though, it was Abu and Iago who made the first move to fight. With a grating exclamation of "Charge!", the bird lunged forward at a Mamluk, while the monkey lept off of Jasmine's shoulders and pounced into the air toward the now maniacally cackling Xerxes. Iago began flying above the undead creature and just out of reach of its sword. Whatever he was doing, it looked to Jasmine as if he were trying to gauge the creature's eyes out with his sharp claws…for a moment, at least, until the parrot started zooming around the Mamluk in circles. The repetitive motion seemed to be making the skeletal creature dizzy and confused because it stopped moving and stood still, a hand on its temple.

"Gotcha!" Iago yelled as he dove toward the back of the distracted Mamluk's wool shirt and pulled at a thread with his beak. The creature instantly fell apart into a pile of green skin and bones.

"Nice job, Iago!" Jasmine gave the parrot an approving cheer just as a Mamluk bounded forward towards her and Cassim. She did the first thing that popped into her head and let forth the largest kick she could muster. The Mamluk was knocked backwards into another, causing both of their delicate frames to shatter to bits and the sword to fly out of the first Mamluk's hand and into Cassim's. Father- and daughter-in-law gave each other quick smiles and turned their attention toward the five other ghouls surrounding them.

Meanwhile, Abu had managed to grab Xerxes by the middle and was in the process of throwing him like a discus. When the monkey finally let go, the eel went springing toward the giant snake-carved doors with a loud scream and an even louder _thud_ as he hit the ornate wood.

Carpet was busy facing off with the sixth Mamluk, dodging its sword and trying his hardest to cover the Mamluk's face with himself in order to make it drop its weapon. After a while, he succeeded, and the Mamluk let out a muffled scream, unable to breathe, and let go of the sword. Jasmine saw her chance to get hold of a weapon to use in her own defense and snatched it up off the ground.

"Thanks, Carpet!" she hollered to the rug. She then stabbed the Mamluk that Carpet had been suffocating and it subsequently fell to pieces.

Cassim was in combat with another undead servant of Mozenrath's and soon proved to be the quicker of the two. Within a moment, he had grabbed the Mamluk by the arm and had thrown it down onto the black sand.

Now, there were four of Mozenrath's creatures and five of Aladdin's rescuers. Finally, the Mamluks were outnumbered.

Silently, Jasmine sent up a "thank you" to Allah and asked that He let them get through these four as well.

Then, just as another two Mamluks came running toward Cassim, Jasmine saw the man pull out a dagger from his belt underneath his cloak and brandish it at them.

So, one of them _had_ come prepared. Who would have thought? Jasmine suspected that Aladdin's father carried around a weapon like that for occasions such as this. Just in case. Truthfully, they never knew when they were going to need one. She made a mental note to start carrying one around, too...

Her father-in-law was now fighting two of the undead ghouls at once. But, luckily, there was no need to worry because Iago soon flew up behind the two creatures and had unraveled their clothes, making them fall apart, just as the others had.

Cassim let out a deep breath and smiled at the bird. "Thank you, my friend."

"Ah, don't mention it." The words were ones of humility, but the bird puffed up his chest in pride. He loved playing the hero (and being rewarded for it even more so). Jasmine fought back the urge to roll her eyes at him again. Even in the most dire of circumstances, Iago was still trying to draw attention to himself.

"Jasmine! Look out!" the former King of Thieves shouted as he noticed the last two Mamluks heading Jasmine's way.

She turned her head toward their shambling foes and let out a loud yell as she sent her sword flying at them, cutting off the head of one and slicing the torso of the other in half.

Abu was soon back on her shoulder, patting her head in a "good job" gesture.

Again, the five of them stood alone in the darkness, but no one was taking any steps to keep moving towards the doors of the Citadel. Not yet. Not until they made sure that no more Mamluks were coming. They couldn't risk getting taken by surprise, not for a second time.

Following several long moments of silence, minutes, Jasmine knew it had to have been, Cassim, Iago, and Carpet walked over to stand beside her and Abu, as they had all scattered somewhat upon being ambushed by Mozenrath's subjects.

"You guys think they're gone?" the parrot asked.

"I don't know, Iago, but we must remain alert," Cassim said. "Let's try to make our way toward the doors…with caution."

Jasmine nodded and she took hold of her father-in-law's arm again as they all began to walk forward. Abu started breathing heavily onto the side of the Princess's neck as he rested his head on her shoulder, but she knew his eyes were still watchful. He was looking worriedly about him for any more Mamluks to appear.

Finally, they reached the grand doors. No one and nothing had come popping out at them, but they remained on edge. Cassim still had his small dagger in his hand, and Iago was now flapping his wings at the speed of a snail to prevent them from making any noise.

"I bet that sneaky kid set us up," the bird whispered frantically. "I bet we were _supposed_ to beat those Mamluks. He was just playin' with us because he's as crazy as sh—"

"I know," Cassim interrupted the parrot before he could finish the swear. "I have the same feeling. He wanted to torment us before letting us get to Aladdin. It was never his intention for us to die, not yet. Not until we see Aladdin for the last time."

"Why?" asked Jasmine.

"Because he's trying to torture me," the man replied distantly. "He wants me to look upon his brother's body and weep before he kills me. I had the feeling as soon as he disappeared with Aladdin, right after addressing me with such hatred. Why else would he kidnap him? Why not just murder him right there? Because he wants to see me suffer."

"But, why?" Jasmine repeated. "He can't blame you for him wandering off as a toddler. It wasn't your fault."

"But, he _does_ blame me, Jasmine," The former King of Thieves said as he stared up at the large doors in front of him. "I can't explain it, but I know it in my heart. I know my son, and he blames me for what happened."

"That's Mozenrath for ya! He thinks everybody's wrong but him. What villain doesn't think like that? They don't ever need real reasons." Iago commented. Abu made an "uh huh" sound in agreement.

Jasmine thought of her husband. "Let's go save Aladdin," she said. "We can't give Mozenrath what he wants."

"No, we can't," Cassim agreed. He did not put his dagger back into the belt underneath his cloak but rather up into the sleeve of his arm. Jasmine didn't ask why, but she knew he had his reasons. Furthermore, she knew that among those reasons was so that he could have easier access to his weapon. He then placed his hands on the heavy doors, ready to open them. "Let's go."

* * *

After Mozenrath had finally risen up from Aladdin's feeble body, the Prince of Agrabah forcefully turned himself onto his side using the very last of his strength, causing himself to cough out the blood that had trapped itself in his throat.

"Dad and Jasmine should be here soon," the wizard said calmly as he watched his brother's attempt to breathe. "They'll want to see you, which is why I'm keeping you alive. I wouldn't want to send you off without you having said good-bye, now, would I? I'm not _that_ heartless."

He laughed at his own cruelty and then walked over to where the goblet lay and picked it up, magically filling it with more brandy. As Aladdin lie there in much more pain than he ever thought he could have experienced in one lifetime and now almost having lost the ability to breathe completely (he certainly could no longer speak), he got the feeling that the young sorcerer wanted to spice up his meeting with his father and sister-in-law by getting himself as drunk as possible beforehand.

Then again, this was only his second glass of the spirit, so perhaps he wasn't going to get _that_ drunk by the time they came barreling into the Citadel, as the young wizard knew they would be doing momentarily. Besides, it might ruin his ability to fight them off if he were to become _too_ intoxicated. Aladdin suspected that Mozenrath was aware of that. If not, well, then he was just as big of an idiot as Abis Mal was.

No sooner had the sorcerer spoken than Xerxes came flying in a panic through one of the two entrances (this one open) of the throne room.

"Master! Father and Princess here! Mamluks destroyed!"

Mozenrath rolled his eyes at the simpleton eel and sipped his brandy. "Well, duh, Xerxes. That's the idea. It's just the way I planned it. Could you _be_ any more stupid?"

He continued to drink the intoxicant, not worried at all about the fight that was about to take place. "Oh, _now_ I can feel it." He closed his eyes with an odd look of happiness on his face. "I'm getting tipsy."

And then, running into the room from the other, closed, entrance, the heavy door opening with such force that it hit the wall behind it, were Jasmine, Cassim, Abu, Iago, and Carpet. They were all out of breath, but unharmed.

Aladdin thanked Allah for that.

Unfortunately, Mozenrath was ready for them. "Hey Dad! Hey Jasmine!" he exclaimed in his usual mocking tone of familiarity, taking a casual drink of his brandy and acting as if their presence was due to nothing more than the average get-together. "So nice of you to join us!"

He then shot a blast of magic from his gauntlet at them. Abu screeched as he jumped from Jasmine's shoulders to avoid the impact, and the Princess dived out of the way of the surge of power. Xerxes zoomed down at the monkey and attempted to bite him, but Abu slapped the eel in the face before grabbing him by the "waist" and sinking his own sharp teeth into the familiar's slippery tail. The eel screamed and tried to wriggle free of Abu's grasp, but the primate was too strong and threw him against the opposite wall of the throne room. Xerxes let out another cry of pain as he crumpled into his own little pile of fins and slimy scales.

At the same time, Iago flew toward Mozenrath with determination etched on his face, but what he was trying to accomplish, Aladdin wasn't sure. The former street rat watched as the bird flew around the young sorcerer's head. Mozenrath tried to send blasts at him, but evidently, the parrot had gotten much quicker since Aladdin had last seen him, because the wizard kept missing. Either that or the alcohol certainly _was_ taking a toll on Mozenrath's aim.

But, while the wizard was busy with Iago, Jasmine and Carpet ran over to Aladdin, who noticed his wife looking at him in shock.

"Aladdin!" she cried, scared for her husband's life. She grabbed hold of his hand and began kissing his forehead wildly as though she would soon never be able to see him again. Aladdin, however, was so happy to have her by his side. He had been sure that he was going to die without having seen her or his father again. Now, if he truly _was_ going to die this night, then he could do so in peace.

However, his wife had made a mistake upon shouting her husband's name, because as soon as Mozenrath had heard her anxious voice, he turned his attention away from Iago and back to his brother.

"Oh, no you don't, you worthless little bitch! You are _not_ helping him! He is mine to kill!" he shouted and sent a blast of magic at his sister-in-law.

But then, to Aladdin's surprise, he himself turned out to be a distraction for the wizard.

This is because, as soon as Mozenrath had his attention on his younger brother, Cassim came running toward his older son and tackled him to the ground, causing the goblet of brandy to go flying out of the wizard's hand and across the room. The former King of Thieves grabbed Mozenrath's gauntleted hand and pulled it behind the sorcerer's back. Then, as Mozenrath struggled to break free, his father pulled out a dagger from his sleeve with his free hand and stabbed the young man squarely in the side of his thigh. The wizard let out a loud cry of pain and stopped struggling to grab hold of his injured leg. This gave Cassim enough time to take the gauntlet off of his son's hand. He then threw the glove to Iago, who had continued to hover above the two of them as they fought. The bird caught the magical garment with a firm clamp of his beak. Aladdin was quite impressed, so much so that a weak smile formed across his face. Whether they had planned this out or not, they were doing a really good job.

"No! No! No!" shouted Mozenrath, grimacing with a mixture of the hurt from his fresh wound _and_ from his feeling of defeat. "This can't be!"

"I'm sorry, son, but it _has_ to be this way." Cassim replied as he wrapped his arms around Mozenrath's neck. Soon, the wizard was lying unconscious in his father's arms. Not dead, but unconscious. Cassim was not about to kill his son, no matter how twisted-minded the young man might have been, but he had to stop him somehow, and if knocking him out was the only way, then so be it.

"Aladdin…" Jasmine repeated her husband's name. This time, her tone was soft and loving. She stroked his hair and tightened her grip on his hand. He then turned his gaze from his father and Mozenrath and back to her.

Her beautiful face was the last thing he saw before he, like his brother, fell into unconsciousness.


	7. Chapter 7

Hey guys! Here's Chapter Seven! Please remember to review when you're done reading! Thanks a bunch!

May

P.S. Please forgive me for any medical issues you encounter while reading this chapter. I did a lot of research, but I'm still a bit shaky, especially when dealing with the time period in which this story takes place. Thanks!

 **Brother Dearest—Chapter Seven**

"Aladdin!" Jasmine screamed her husband's name upon seeing him fade away. "Aladdin! No!"

In an instant, Cassim, Iago, and Abu were by her side.

"He might be bleeding internally," the former King of Thieves said worriedly as he took in the blood on the floor that his younger son had coughed up. "We have to get him back to Agrabah and to a doctor."

"I don't know where the hospital _is_!" Jasmine exclaimed. Up until two years ago, she hadn't even known where the marketplace was, let alone where to find a hospital. She wasn't even sure if there were treatments for these kinds of injuries.

"Then we take him to the palace!" Cassim insisted, knowing full well that he and Iago would not be welcomed there. "And we take Mozenrath with us."

" _What?"_ the parrot shrieked, as if Cassim were insane. "We can't bring that—"

"But we must." Cassim shook his head as he glanced back at his unconscious older son. "I'm not leaving him here, injured like this. Besides, when he wakes, he'll be angry. Someone needs to watch him."

Jasmine agreed with her father-in-law. "Yes," she said. "We can have a doctor fix his leg, and then we can put him in the dungeon. We can't risk him waking up unguarded, not again."

This time, they had to stop the wizard for good.

Abu chattered something in disagreement with this, but the humans ignored him, whatever he was saying.

"What about Wormboy?" Iago asked, looking over his shoulder at where Xerxes still lay.

"We take him, too," said Jasmine. "We can't give Mozenrath any options to escape. Let's hurry. Carpet!"

The rug nodded next to her and instantly laid himself out for everyone to step onto him. Cassim lifted Aladdin gently and placed him on Carpet's front before turning towards Mozenrath to place him on the rug as well.

"Abu, get Xerxes!" Jasmine said right as the eel began to stir into consciousness. But, the monkey soon held the familiar around his waist and threw him against the wall again, knocking him out once more.

Abu made a noise that sounded something like "Got him!" before carrying the slimy little beast over to Carpet.

As Carpet flew back to Agrabah, Cassim took hold of Mozenrath to make sure that he didn't wake, while instructing Jasmine on what to do with Aladdin to make sure he was still breathing.

"Keep your finger on the pulse in his neck," he said.

"Where is it?" she asked, panicked. Truly, she felt like an idiot. Never before had she realized how little she knew, even about something as simple as parts of the body.

"On the upper right side."

She moved her hands around her husband's throat frantically, when finally, she felt something beating.

"I found it!" she stammered.

"Were you a doctor before you became a thief?" asked Iago curiously.

Cassim rolled his eyes. "No, Iago. It's common sense when you've lived a life as reckless as I have."

With Carpet flying as fast as possible, they finally made it to Agrabah. Upon reaching the palace, Jasmine noticed candles lit in the throne room. Her father must be in there.

"Carpet, go to the throne room! We have to get my father!"

Carpet nodded energetically and dove through an open window.

"Jasmine!" the Sultan's voice rang out like a loud bell throughout the room. "Jasmine! Where have you—"

"It's the King of Thieves!" Jasmine noticed the sound of the fat guard Fazal's voice. She groaned upon taking in her surroundings as Carpet landed. Her father, Sadira, Dhandi, the Captain of the Guards (Razoul), Fazal, and the skinny guard Hakim were all standing in the middle of the room.

"Don't worry, Your Highness!" shouted Razoul as he drew his sword and pointed it toward where Cassim was awkwardly sitting on Carpet over both Aladdin and Mozenrath's limp forms. "I'll take care of this—"

"No!" shouted Jasmine, and she jumped off the rug, knowing just what the muscular brute was about to do. "Father! Stop him!"

"Razoul!" the Sultan sputtered and grabbed a hold (as best he could) of Razoul's muscular forearm. It was then that he noticed his son-in-law lying unconscious on the rug.

"My word! Jasmine, what happened?" he asked.

"Mozenrath happened!" Jasmine shouted. "He threw Aladdin against a wall. Father, he needs a doctor!"

The Sultan nodded and turned to Razoul and the other guards. "You must go to the hospital and bring back a physician!" he commanded.

Razoul however, _appeared_ not to have heard the regal man, and shouted, "The King of Thieves!" He was determined on taking Cassim's life, it seemed. He raised his sword again.

"Razoul!" shouted the Sultan, this time with much more authority than usual. "You get a doctor to come here _now,_ or—this is the first time I've ever had to consider doing this, so bear with me—" the portly little man cleared his throat, "or you are all _fired_!"

Fazal screamed and began cowering in terror. "I can't get fired! I can't go back to feeding the lions at the zoo! They're _sure_ to eat me this time!"

"Why would they want to eat _you_?" asked Hakim, as deadpanned as usual. "There's no meat on you. You're nothing but fat."

Razoul, ignoring the side comments of his lesser comrades, scowled at the Sultan's strong threat, but after several moments, he spoke authoritatively.

"Come on, men!" He bellowed out the order with one last nasty glance at the former King of Thieves. "We must find the hospital!"

And with that, the three incompetent guards ran out of the palace, Iago staring after them in shock.

"You know," the parrot remarked. "With guys like _that_ guarding this place, it's no wonder how so many different people have taken it over…I'm kinda surprised it's even still standing."

"What happened?" the Sultan asked again as soon as Razoul and the other guards were out of earshot. Sadira and Dhandi stood next to him, huddled together in shock and worry, unable to speak.

"Mozenrath," Jasmine repeated. "We went to Aladdin's old hovel to see his father, and Mozenrath showed up. He'd gotten the gauntlet back, somehow, and blasted Aladdin against the wall so hard that his ribs and leg broke. Then, he kidnapped him, and so we went to the Land of the Black Sand to rescue him."

The Sultan's little eyes widened. "But, why didn't you tell me, dearest? We could have—"

"No, Father! We didn't have the time to tell you! We had to get to Aladdin before Mozenrath killed him!" Jasmine objected to what she knew her father was in the process of saying.

"We were able to stop Mozenrath," Cassim interjected with a look to his older son. "But, you'll need to get him to a doctor, as well."

That was when the Sultan realized for the first time that the young wizard was lying passed out and injured in his throne room. His eyes grew even wider.

"He must go to the dungeon!" The Sultan stammered, only realizing too late that he had sent all of his available guards out into town.

"The doctor has to tend to his wound first," Jasmine said. "We can tie him to a bed for now, just in case he wakes up, but we can't let him stay injured."

Of course, she was saying this for Cassim's sake, not for Mozenrath's. Any time before this, if she had had the option of just letting him die of infection or the like, then she would have gladly taken it. But, not now that she knew he was Cassim's son. Her father didn't need to know that fact right away, however.

At least, not from her. That was definitely something Cassim should tell the Sultan in his own time.

After a moment or so, the Sultan nodded at his daughter's insistence, even though it was obvious that he did not understand her concern for the sorcerer. "Yes, yes. The doctor can tend to him as well. Let's get them both—" he gestured to the two brothers, "—to a room."

Within half an hour, the doctor had arrived. After a long look at Aladdin, he determined that the young Prince was indeed suffering from several broken ribs, one of which had caused his lower left lung to be punctured slightly. This, in turn, had caused blood and fluid to start to fill it, making it very difficult for him to breathe. After a while of watching the doctor look Aladdin over with an expression of perplexity, Cassim and Jasmine grew worried that the man might not have any remedy to repair the lung.

Finally, he opened his mouth to address the other occupants in the room, most importantly, Aladdin's concerned wife and father.

"I _can_ repair the boy's lung," he declared slowly, looking Cassim and Jasmine in the eyes. "It requires that I wash the wound with special herbs to prevent infection. They will also expel the blood and fluid and will allow him to breathe, but…"

Of course.

There had to be a "but." When was there _not_ a "but" with anything this serious? Cassim and Jasmine braced themselves for whatever was coming. Jasmine could feel her stomach dropping slowly as she waited.

"But, the wound could take up to several weeks to heal. I would suspect around close to twelve with this severity. You must continue to clean it on your own."

Jasmine nodded and took a deep breath, noticing her father-in-law cringe beside her.

"Twelve weeks?" Cassim repeated, almost incredulously, as though he wasn't sure that he had heard correctly.

The doctor shook his head weakly. "I'm so sorry…. And that is just for the wounded lung. The recovery for the leg will be much longer indeed. With this severity, the boy will have to learn to walk again, and this could take up to a year, at least."

Jasmine nodded again in understanding, but hung her head in sadness. Noticing her demeanor, Cassim put his arm around her.

It took the doctor almost an hour to clean and dress Aladdin's wound, but when he was finally done, Jasmine found herself sobbing. She didn't know if this would really work. There was a strong possibility that Aladdin could still succumb to his injuries, that much was certain, as the doctor had stated so multiple times during the course of his task.

Then, the physician turned his attention to the injured Mozenrath, who was lying on a cot several feet from where Aladdin rested on his bed and was tied to said cot by ropes around both his flesh and bone hands. Cassim must have knocked him out pretty well, Jasmine thought, because he hadn't stirred once since they had brought him to the palace.

Inwardly, she wished he would stay that way, but she would never voice that to Cassim.

The stab to the thigh that the wizard had suffered was rather large, but obviously not fatal. No bones or significant arteries had been damaged, but the doctor did comment that he would have trouble walking when he woke up. Not that that bothered anyone, as he wouldn't need to do any walking for quite a long time, being stuck in the dungeon. The doctor merely stitched up the wound and bandaged it, promising that it would heal in a few weeks' time.

"When can we put him in the dungeon?" It was the first sentence to come out of Fazal's mouth once the doctor had left. Everyone was staring at the Sultan once the question had been uttered, including Cassim.

"Right away," the Sultan replied instantaneously. "We cannot risk him waking in this part of the palace. Razoul, you and the other guards are to watch over him."

The Captain very noticeably rolled his eyes at this command, but he did not argue. Fazal, however, gave an annoyingly loud whimper and hid behind Hakim, looking very much like a giant bear trying to hide from a poacher behind a twig.

Cassim stole a look at Jasmine and she gave him a quick nod, telling him that she would insist to her father that the guards be careful and that they tend to the young sorcerer as soon as he woke. Although, she could not be sure that the request would be honored, what with Razoul in charge.

The Sultan did not ask any questions as he gave the command for the guards to be gentle with Mozenrath, but it was obvious from Razoul's look that the burly Captain was suspicious. He sent another deadly glower toward Cassim and spoke in his usual gruff voice.

"What of the King of Thieves? Your Highness, he cannot be trusted! He must be led to the dungeon as well."

Jasmine noticed a flash of rare anger appear in her father's eyes.

"He is no longer the King of Thieves," the Sultan countered in a matter-of-fact tone. "And in case you are…" he paused for a moment, biting his lip, as if searching for the right word, or summoning up the courage to _use_ a certain word, "i _ncapable_ of noticing, his _son_ is in mortal danger. Therefore, he will stay in this palace, _above the dungeon,_ for as long as Aladdin needs him."

If the situation hadn't been so serious, the Princess would have laughed at the look on Razoul's face at her father's use of the word "incapable," for, in using such a word, the Sultan had indirectly insulted the Captain by calling him an idiot.

 _Rightly done_ , Jasmine thought.

For the first time in his life, or so it would seem by his expression, Razoul was absolutely, positively defeated. Jasmine pursed her lips and quickly turned her attention toward Cassim and gave him a small smile, which he returned.

Razoul grumbled something under his breath and then cleared his throat fiercely.

"Come on, men," he finally said, not taking his eyes off of Aladdin's father. "Let's take the prisoner to the dungeon."

Once the guards had left with Mozenrath, Cassim bowed to the Sultan and took his hand in thanks.

"Your Majesty…" He was nearly speechless at the older man's generosity. "I can't express how appreciative I am…"

"And you don't have to," the Sultan smiled. "You love your child very much. I see it in your eyes, and he loves you." He squeezed the former thief's hand. "It is only right for you to be there to watch over him in his time of need."

* * *

His head felt like it had swollen to the size of a watermelon, and it was throbbing painfully. Perhaps he _had_ been drinking a little too much brandy.

Then, he remembered what had happened and his eyes shot open. A loud scream emitted from his mouth when he realized just where he was: lying on a hard cot-like bed in Agrabah's palace dungeon.

He continued to scream and thrash about, only to find that both of his hands were in shackles and his leg was badly wounded. He knew that he couldn't walk even if he had wanted to. His father had really done a number on him, in more ways than one. About a foot from him, Xerxes was trapped in a tank with air holes and making spitting noises, as if that would help their situation. The eel then clapped his fins in glee upon noticing that his master was now awake.

"Oh, look, men! The sorcerer awakens!" a voice came out from the shadows. It was the muscular Captain of the Guards. Mozenrath didn't know his name, but he would have recognized the voice anywhere. He looked up hazily and noticed the Captain and two other guards standing outside the bars of his cell.

One of the other guards, the fat one with the dark skin, let out a scream and started shaking madly as though he were in the middle of an earthquake. The Captain rolled his eyes.

"So…" the skinny guard with the monotone voice began talking, "what do we do with him?"

"We let him eat Fazal," the Captain said without humor. "His fat ass will _finally_ be useful…for once."

The fat guard continued to scream and began running around in circles, stupidly believing the Captain to be serious.

"Let me out this instant!" Mozenrath shouted. "This is an outrage! I am the Lord of the Black Sand!"

"Not anymore," the Captain said harshly. "Now, you're the Lord of the Dungeon, boy." He smiled wickedly. "Get used to it."

Mozenrath stared at the three guards, knowing that he was trapped. Without the gauntlet, he could go nowhere. He was at their mercy. Defeated, yet again, he laid his aching head back down on the oddly comfortable pillow and closed his eyes.

The Captain continued to speak as though Mozenrath were not present. "I still can't believe the Sultan is letting the King of Thieves walk around the palace a free man! He should be locked away with this brat!"

Somehow, Mozenrath knew that the Captain was speaking of his father. Or at least, he had the suspicion. It seemed only right that any begetter of _Aladdin's_ (or, alright, yes, of Mozenrath himself) would turn out to be the legendary leader of the Forty Thieves. The young sorcerer opened his eyes again to look at the guards, but he now found himself to be too pained and exhausted to speak or even to react to what they were saying.

"Well, I, for one, admire the King a bit," the skinny guard remarked, much to the Captain's surprise. "After all, you can't deny that he's refined, he's highly intelligent and educated, and what he does, he does well. He's much more capable of ruling _anything_ than the Sultan is, and that's a fact. Anyone can see that."

"It may _be_ a fact," the Captain reluctantly agreed with a shrug of his shoulders. "But, the man is _still_ a criminal, and I'll be putting him behind bars for good if it's the last thing I do!"

But, apparently, the skinny guard was not listening to his superior and went on with admiration for the King of Thieves. "And after a bumbling, incompetent idiot like Abis Mal, who else would _you_ rather have rob this place and do it right? That fat lard wasn't even aware that there is only _one_ correct way to spell the word 'cleverly.'"

"What?" The Captain was taken aback by this.

"Remember when he cursed the Sultan's bath oils and sent that letter, explaining what he had done? 'Cleverly' was spelled wrong _both_ times it was written. _Two_ different ways." the skinny guard explained with a look that read "how could anyone be that much of an imbecile?" on his face.

Fazal the fat guard stopped scampering around the room and let out a laugh at this. But, then, he paused as realization dawned on him. "How _do_ you spell 'cleverly'?"

The Captain of the Guards ignored this stupid question, and the skinny one changed the subject. "Personally, _I_ think the Sultan's mistake was allowing that annoying, greedy, trouble-making parrot back into the palace. If anyone should be locked away in the dungeon again, it's _him._ "

Just then, a loud crash could be heard from somewhere above them. Fazal let out another cowardly shriek, and the skinny guard slapped him across the face, unable to deal with his shenanigans any longer. Mozenrath closed his eyes again.


	8. Chapter 8

Hey guys! Here's Chapter Eight! It's rather short compared to the other chapters, I know, only slightly longer than Chapter One. But I hope you enjoy it all the same! This is probably one of the more touching chapters in the story, and I thought about making it longer, but then I decided that it was at a good stopping point. Thanks so much for reading, following, favoriting, etc! And PLEASE remember to review!

Thanks,

May

 **Brother Dearest—Chapter Eight  
**

"What the hell was that?" Sadira shouted as she and Dhandi ran out of Jasmine and Aladdin's bedroom to see what that earth-shattering crash was and where it had come from. It was so loud and made the palace shake so badly that Sadira was sure everyone in the Seven Deserts was aware of it.

When the two girls had made it out into the hallway, they noticed Iago and Abu, flying and standing, respectively, over a pile of shattered glass and broken candles, which had come from a chandelier that _had_ been hanging securely from the ceiling not three minutes before, Sadira knew. Evidently, it had been ripped off its hinges by _something_ , namely a treacherous parrot who liked to act up at the most inappropriate times. Thank Allah that the candles had not been lit, though, or else a raging fire would surely have broken out, and _that_ was the last thing any of them needed right now.

"Iago! Abu! What the—" Sadira caught herself before she swore in front of Dhandi again "— _crap_ did you guys do?"

"We were practicing our trapeze act for the circus," Iago replied sarcastically. "What other career options do we have?"

"Iago!" Sadira shouted again. "You haven't even been back in this palace for twenty-four hours and you've already reverted back to your old self? Did you _have_ to do that?"

"My old self?" The parrot echoed the female street rat, looking greatly offended by her words. "Listen, sister, I don't know what planet you've been living on for the past seven months, but I'll tell ya, my old self _never left._ Besides..." He looked down accusingly at Abu. "This was all the monkey's idea."

Abu screeched up at the bird in anger, bouncing up and down and shaking his fist, obviously denying this. Sadira glared at the parrot.

"Iago," she rebuked him. "Even if you and Abu were the last two animals on Earth and all the evidence in the _universe_ pointed to Abu as the culprit, we would _still_ know that this was _your_ idea."

"I know," Iago shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "But it's worth goofin' with ya, especially with this place bein' so moody and miserable at the moment."

"It's _supposed_ to be that way, Iago," Sadira said, before letting out a cat-like snarl in disapproval of his actions. "You are the most insensitive animal ever! Aladdin's practically in a coma and here you are swinging from chandeliers and wreaking havoc like there's a huge party going on or something!"

"Al'll be _fine_ ," the bird shrugged his shoulders again. "He's not gonna die…unless, you know," he started rattling terrible incidents off the top of his head, not thinking about what he was really saying, "the medicine backfires and he gets a massive infection in his lungs, or… he breathes too hard and a rib tears his aorta and it ruptures, or—"

"Shut up!" Dhandi finally spoke. "Or I'll-I'll…" she stuttered, "I'll shoot you with my bow and arrow!"

" _Where_ did you get a bow and arrow?" asked Sadira, caught off guard.

"From Eden," the little girl replied simply. "She gave it to me before she left. You know, just in case I ever got in trouble." She smirked. "I think this qualifies as trouble, don't you?"

Sadira glared back up at Iago. "Yeah, actually, I think it does."

Abu started to laugh, and the parrot scrunched his beak up in anger and ruffled his feathers. "I'm gonna go take a bird bath…in China. If anybody needs me, well...don't bother calling."

With that, he flew away, leaving the broken chandelier on the floor, which meant that the others would have to clean it up.

"Do you really think he's going to China?" asked Dhandi.

Sadira gave a half-chuckle. "No. He'll be back in a few hours, at the _most_. He can't stay away from this place for very long, you know, with all the luxurious stuff it has. It's too much for him to live without." She shook her head and sighed. "I guess I'll go get a broom."

* * *

Meanwhile, in Aladdin and Jasmine's bedroom, Cassim and the Princess had not left Aladdin's side and refused to do so until he woke. For the first few hours, they had sat by his bedside, unable to sleep, watching him lie motionless and hoping that he would wake soon. However, upon realizing that staring at him would do no good for either of them or for Aladdin, they decided to occupy themselves in different ways. Jasmine had decided to try her hand at needlework, but ended up sticking herself with the needle much more than she did the fabric.

"Don't hold your finger so close to the needle when you poke it through the silk," Cassim instructed when he noticed his daughter-in-law's struggle.

"Thanks," she smiled weakly, looking down at the microscopic prick on her left index finger. It had begun to bleed tiny dots and was, thus, ruining the design. She sighed. "You know, I thought I was pretty well educated and wise for a Princess, even for a girl of my age _,_ until today."

"You mean your teachers never taught you how to sew properly?" the former King of Thieves asked. But, she could tell by his tone that he knew that that was only partially what she meant by not being well educated or wise.

"Among others things," she responded shortly. "They certainly never taught me how to find my husband's pulse! I feel like an idiot with what little I actually know. I couldn't even find the _doctor_ if someone came up to me on the street and was bleeding to death."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Jasmine," Cassim smiled lightly. "You're still very young. It's when you've reached my age and you still don't know certain things that you should be worried. Besides, you _are_ very wise and brave. Never forget that." He looked out the window from the position in his chair and back to her. "And learning never stops. _I'm_ still learning many things…" He then looked over at his injured son and sighed, sadness in his eyes. "Like how to be a father."

Jasmine nodded and gave her father-in-law another poor smile. "He loves you," she finally said after a few seconds of silence. "Just as I love _my_ father. You don't know how happy he was to find out that you were alive. I mean, he was afraid at first, you know, to finally meet you, but he was happy all the same."

Cassim nodded. "I was, too. Happy to see him alive and well, that is. But…" He shook his head. "I regret leaving him and his mother more than anything in the world. If only I had stayed with them…" His eyes filled with tears. "I _know_ his mother would still be alive. I could have helped her through her depression. We could have raised Aladdin together and grieved Mozenrath properly, as a family. We could have found a way to move forward." He shrugged his shoulders. "And perhaps, we could have stopped Mozenrath from becoming the man he is today."

"How?" Jasmine asked curiously, not understanding what her father-in-law meant. "There's no way you could have known what Destane was doing to his mind or what he was teaching him to become. I know you blame yourself, but there's really nothing you could have done once Destane had him in his grasp."

"I know in my heart that that's true," he replied, looking down at his hands. "But, my mind keeps telling me a different story. I just wish I had been a good father to both of my sons."

Jasmine put down her fabric and needle and walked over to Cassim, embracing him. "You can _still_ be a good father to them. You're here for Aladdin now, and that's just what he needs. And Mozenrath, well…" She paused and pulled away from her father-in-law to look him in the eye. "He can either accept you as his father or not. It's his choice. All you can do is treat him with love."

She smiled, and Cassim smiled back. "See?" He said, chuckling slightly. "You _are_ very wise, my dear, and you know very much about the human heart, much more so than I. I hope you realize that."

That she did. Her heart swelled with pride.

"Thank you, sir," she said politely, taking his hand and kissing his cheek.

They sat in silence for a few moments, before they heard a soft sound coming from the bed. Turning their heads, they saw Aladdin feebly gripping the sheets with his hands and opening his eyes ever so slowly.


	9. Chapter 9

Hey guys! Here's Chapter Nine! Enjoy! Please review when you're done! I really appreciate it when you do!

Love ya,

May

 **Brother Dearest—Chapter Nine**

He didn't know—or care, for that matter—how long he had been asleep, but the pain he had felt before losing consciousness had not dulled one little bit. Judging by that fact alone, he assumed that he couldn't have been asleep for more than several days at the most, unless his condition just _wasn't_ improving and wasn't ever going to do so. However, one thing he did know upon regaining consciousness was that he was back in his own bedroom that he and Jasmine shared. The sheets that he gripped between his fingers were undoubtedly from the palace, and they had even been newly washed, as he could smell faint traces of the spices and the soap that the maids always used to clean them. They were pleasant smells, indeed.

But, nothing was _more_ pleasant, of course, than hearing the soft whispers of his wife and father, and for the two of them to be the first faces he saw as he opened his eyes, well…it made him quite happy.

They were both seated in chairs near the window and were holding hands, as though struggling to find comfort in each other as the one they loved lay so helplessly before them. Did they think Aladdin's life was coming to an end? He couldn't tell by just that detail, but the looks on their faces that they had upon seeing his eyes open were ones of shock and surprise. They let out loud gasps and immediately ran over to his side.

"Aladdin!" Jasmine was smiling and bent her head down to kiss her husband's temple as she threw herself onto her side of their bed.

Cassim took his son's hand gently and seated himself on his son's other side, as there was just enough room for him. Aladdin tried to speak, but he found himself unable. There was far too much pressure on his chest. Was there something there? How bad were his injuries, really? Had he actually punctured a lung? How long before he could walk again? Turning his eyes downward as best as he could, he was able to see that his chest was bandaged, rather tightly, from what he could feel. He also could see that his left leg was encased by some sort of cast, in addition to being set straight by a wooden board, probably to prevent the cast itself from moving. But, he didn't know for sure if that was the reason for it being there. He was a Prince, not a doctor.

And to make matters even worse, he was practically nude, clad in nothing but his boxers. How embarrassing. He felt so weak and vulnerable.

Cassim noticed his son's struggle to talk and to move his head, so he gripped the hand that he held firmer and shook his own head. "No, son." He said. His voice was calm, but it was still somewhat stern. Aladdin didn't know if this was a fatherly tone that Cassim was using or that of a man used to giving commands to a group of stubborn, wayward men. Then again, was there really a difference? "You must lie still."

"You have a really bad laceration on your chest," Jasmine said, stroking her husband's thick dark hair. "And you punctured your lower left lung. _And_ broke your—" she stopped talking mid-sentence and looked at Cassim questioningly, as though asking the former King of Thieves exactly what it was that Aladdin had broken.

"Your tibia and fibula, which are in your shin, and your patella. That's your knee cap," his father clarified instantly. "You also broke a few bones in your foot."

Jasmine nodded at her father-in-law's words, but Aladdin knew that there was no way his wife knew what any of those bones were or what they even did for a person's leg. Yet, Cassim's knowledge of exactly what his son had broken prompted Aladdin to wonder if his father had been a doctor before becoming a thief, or at least, had some sort of medical background or education in the field.

"The doctor says you'll need physical therapy…" Jasmine said, but she suddenly paused and looked away shortly before saying, in a very low, almost inaudible, voice, "in about a year from now."

Unfortunately for her, her voice was not low enough, because Aladdin had heard exactly what she said, and he was furious.

 _A year from now?_ What the hell did _that_ mean? Was he going to be in a cast, bedridden, _for a whole year_? If he had had the ability to use his voice, he would have screamed in protest at this.

But, his facial expression had obviously showed his disbelief, because both Jasmine and Cassim looked at him sadly, not knowing what to say to his reaction. Yet, he had to remember that the condition of his chest was _far_ more serious than that of his leg, as a shattered leg was—usually—not fatal.

Finally, after what felt like an hour of silence to Aladdin, Cassim spoke, still clasping his hand. "It's all right, son. We'll get through this. We aren't leaving you alone."

Aladdin found his heart leaping at his father's words as the young man realized just what they meant: Cassim was telling his son that he would _not_ be going anywhere this time. He would not try to find an excuse to leave him in his time of need, and to Aladdin, this could only mean one thing: his father had truly grown to love and care for him. Aladdin knew that the experience that he and Cassim had had at the Vanishing Isle had warmed his father's heart to him, but now the young man felt that the former King of Thieves' heart was filled with nothing but pure compassion for his boy.

The young Prince felt tears well up in his eyes at this. He knew that he must have cried more in the past day or so than he had in his entire life, but he didn't care how unmanly of him that was.

After a few moments, some tears from his eyes had somehow managed to find their way into his throat and he let out a small choking cough, causing him to wince in even more pain as his chest moved. This startled his wife and father, and they looked at him with even further concern.

"I'll go to the kitchen and get you some water. You need to moisten your throat." Jasmine said quickly. She reached down and kissed her husband's temple again. "I'll be right back."

And with that, she walked hurriedly out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Cassim turned his head back to look down at his son, and, with his free hand, he wiped away the small tears that had accumulated in Aladdin's eyes.

"No," he clarified, somehow knowing the reason for the Prince's tears. "I'm _not_ going anywhere this time. I won't run away…I'll be by your side until my dying day."

 _Or until mine,_ Aladdin thought. It was a terrible thing to think, the Prince of Agrabah knew that, and it was definitely something that he would never utter aloud to anyone, especially not Cassim or Jasmine. But, honestly, in his current condition, his death was _far_ more likely to happen sooner than that of his healthy father.

Cassim looked down at his hand, still clasping his son's, and then back up at Aladdin's face, proceeding to stroke his son's cheek with his free hand in a paternal gesture. The former King of Thieves eyed his son sadly.

"You're not out of the woods yet," he admitted. "You're still at risk…for some illnesses, pneumonia obviously being among the most serious. But…" He took a deep breath. "Everything will be fine in the end. I'm _not_ going to lose you again. No."

He shook his head to emphasize this, and then, to Aladdin's great surprise, he leaned forward slowly and pressed his lips firmly to his son's head and repeated the action three times, his neatly trimmed beard brushing against Aladdin's skin.

"I know you're a grown man now," Cassim explained as he pulled away to look into his son's eyes again. "And, as such, I know you probably aren't comfortable with me showing you affection in such a way. I know _I_ certainly wasn't when my father tried to do it to me at your age. But, unlike my father, _I_ owe you a lifetime of love, and I must take the opportunity to give some of it to you now."

He smiled again and pursed his lips. "I'm so proud of you, my boy. You've become such a wonderful man…and I know your mother would be proud of you, too."

Cassim's eyes suddenly became distant, and Aladdin suddenly knew that his father was remembering his wife.

* * *

 _As fate would have it, Cassim had waited considerably longer than most men of his time before settling down to marry. But, of course, as he_ was _a man, it was not seen nearly as mandatory for him to marry as quickly or as early in life as it would have been had he been a woman. He had wanted to get his life in order, as much as he possibly could, before taking any woman's hand. By age twenty-three, he had finished his study as a medical doctor and was looking to join the hospital. So, yes, in a way, he_ had _told Iago a lie in that he, technically,_ had _been a doctor before becoming a thief because he had the education and qualifications to become one. However, in the end, he had chosen to go on a different career path altogether. He had decided to take up a job as a spice merchant. It paid well, as long as he was prosperous in what he did, and, by age twenty-five, he was. He was prosperous, however, not just in terms of his career, but also in terms of love. His employer, a wealthy man, soon after hiring him, had introduced him, by chance as it were, to his young daughter, Emina. Her beauty instantly caught his eye, more so than that of any other woman he had ever met before, and as he got to know her, he began to fall madly in love with her. She was only a mere fourteen years old, but extremely mature for her age, and was, by her own admission, ready for marriage. After a few months of a somewhat secret courtship, Cassim finally built up his courage, and asked Emina's father for her hand in marriage. Yet, to Cassim's surprise, the man was not at all hesitant to consent to the young man's request, for he saw Cassim's intelligence, diligence, and above all, love for his daughter. He did not mind their eleven-year age difference._

 _And so, a month later, the two lovers married, but unfortunately, not without the gossip of some others in Agrabah. Although it was not at all uncommon in their culture—or, as a matter of fact,_ any _culture of the time period—for a man of his age to marry a girl of hers, there were still those who believed that Cassim's motive for marriage was one of nothing but a pure, perverted lust, and that the only reason for it was so that he could take a child, as some referred to Emina as in spite of her having hit puberty, to his bed. Of course, these rumors hurt both him and Emina, but they tried to pay them no mind and went on with their lives._

 _And of course, in accordance with the Muslim law of the land, Cassim had kept Emina a virgin until their wedding night. A month or so afterward, their love for one another led them to conceive Mozenrath, who, upon his birth, would become his mother's entire world, and to see his new wife so happy with their son pleased Cassim more than anything._

 _So, predictably, as a result of such a love for their son, Mozenrath's disappearance three years later had devastated his parents to absolutely no end._

 _As Cassim had told Aladdin, the last three months of Emina's pregnancy with their second child had been beyond unbearable for the both of them. A sadness unimaginable to anything that they had ever experienced in their lives rang out throughout every inch of their home. While Cassim spent every ounce of time and gold that they possessed looking for Mozenrath, Emina never once had a dry eye._

 _During her ninth month, in fact, the night before she gave birth, as it were, she finally voiced to Cassim her concerns for having a second child._

" _I don't know if I can handle this," she sobbed as they lay in bed together, arms wrapped tightly around one another, as had become their custom since the earth-shattering loss of their son. "I won't be able to be a good mother. How can I give my love to another child when I'm so sad about losing my first?"_

 _She cried into his chest, gripping his waist as she held tightly to him. He did not know how to answer this question, for, in all honesty, he had had the very same thoughts and fears. How on Earth_ could _they raise a second child in their position? They had given all of their love to Mozenrath, but now he was gone. If he had still been around, then their feelings would have been different. They would have been nothing but happy, as they had been before his disappearance._

 _But, now…_

 _After an hour or so, Emina finally cried herself to sleep in Cassim's arm, but he remained awake, pondering how to handle their new life._

 _After a while, he made the decision that he would try his hardest to make a new life for his wife and new child, at whatever the cost. But, he looked down at Emina's lovely form, and realization about something overtook him. He would never be able to find prosperity, or mostly likely, any work at all, in Agrabah again. No, he would have to leave the town to find the money that he needed to sustain his family._

 _Finally, he began to drift off to sleep, but, almost as soon as he had closed his eyes, he felt Emina suddenly writhe and twist in his arms._

" _It's coming!" she screamed in pain. "Cassim, it's coming!"_

 _A surge of adrenaline and panic came into his mind as he thought about what he could do. Even if there had been time for him to contact a midwife or a doctor, he had no money to pay them this time around, and without gold, they would not come. Not in this city, where the majority of the population lived below the poverty level, and as such, did absolutely nothing for free or out of the kindness of their hearts for anyone._

 _After several moments of his own heavy breathing, he remembered his medical training, and, for once, he was very thankful that he had gone through with all of those years of study. He had her lie flat on her back, and cautiously, he positioned her legs so that they were far enough apart, before taking off her underwear. He gasped in fear as he saw that she had already begun to bleed profusely and that something was on its way out._

 _She cried in pain._

" _It's all right, darling. It's all right." He knew that he had to be encouraging to her, no matter how afraid_ he was. _"Just push, push."_

 _And after much difficulty and the passing of at least an hour, the child finally came._ _It let out a piercing wail as it fell into its father's trembling, bloody hands. But, then, a jolt of pleasure came from inside Cassim's heart when he noticed his child's gender and he gasped again._

" _It's a boy," he panted in excitement. "We have another son."_

 _He placed the child on Emina's chest, and, for the first time in three months, she smiled._

" _You did it!" he said, now feeling very happy, and brushed the sweat-filled hair from her forehead before kissing her lips. "I'm so proud of you!"_

" _Me?" she asked, incredulously, giggling slightly. "All I did was push. You did the rest! We both probably would have died if it weren't for you!" She captured his lips with hers once more._

 _He, too, found himself smiling. Perhaps, they_ could _love another child as much as they had loved Mozenrath, even in their position. Their new little one deserved that much. After all, he was nothing but innocent._

 _In the next few hours, Cassim tended to his new son as any doctor would have. He cut his umbilical cord, gave him his first bath, and even, much to his displeasure, performed his circumcision. Now that, of course, was something that Cassim would have loved to forget about ever having to do, and it most certainly wasn't anything that he would_ ever _tell his son twenty years in the future that he had had to undertake. No, it was not a part of their relationship that Cassim ever wanted to divulge._

 _The child cried in his father's arms for at least an hour after the procedure, and Cassim suddenly found himself to be overcome with emotion. Of course, he had gone through the same procedure with Mozenrath three years prior, and yes, he had been quite emotional then as well, but at that time, an actual physician had performed the task. Cassim had merely held the infant in his arms (which, he had to admit, was far better down the road for the child emotionally, as, in most cases in their town, the baby boy would be placed on a wooden surface with no assistance or support from his father) as the deed was being carried out. He had never expected to have to do it himself. It had, however, been his choice for his sons to be circumcised as babies, as he himself had gone through it at the age of twelve, and, needless to say, it had been a terrible experience. He did not want them to remember it the way he had._

 _When he reentered his bedroom with his son carefully positioned in his arms so that no friction or pressure would be applied to the wound, he noticed that Emina was still awake, not having moved from her spot on the bed. He had not expected her to do so, as she was still bleeding and very sore. She looked up at him with sadness._

" _Is he doing all right?" she asked, but suddenly, her eyes darted downward, as if in embarrassment. "Poor little sweetheart..." She pursed her lips. "I—I heard him screaming."_

 _Cassim nodded. "Yes, he's just fine. I put some oils and warm water on his wound to make him feel more comfortable, and we need to keep his clothes loose, as I'm sure you remember. No swaddling him right now. It's alright, though. He'll heal in a few weeks' time. But, yes, you_ would _hear him scream. They always do. Mozenrath did. I did, and_ I _was actually old enough to remember mine."_

 _Emina gasped at this. "What?" That was certainly a secret fact that Cassim had never told her, not even when Mozenrath had gone through the process._

 _The look in her eyes told Cassim that she wanted him to explain further. But, her husband shook his head sternly, thereby telling her to drop the subject. "I don't believe it's something that a woman should hear about, or see, especially one's wife. It's…something only a man can understand." He hadn't meant to sound like a misogynist, but that was how he was afraid Emina would interpret his words._

 _But, to his relief, she only nodded, not wanting to upset him, and straightened her legs._

" _He should probably nurse," she suggested._

" _Yes, I think he should." Cassim replied, trying to forget about the pain that he himself had caused his new little son._

 _As he walked toward their bed to place the infant in his wife's arm, Emina sat back against the headboard and struggled to take her breast out of her nightgown. The garment had no buttons and was not the least bit elastic, far too tight in the bust area for her to just pull herself out._

" _Okay, whatever," she finally grumbled and decided to take the entire gown off. Soon, she was sitting up completely naked, except for the thick, bulky—not to mention, very padded—pair of panties that Cassim had helped her into after the delivery. She had a sudden pondering look on her face. "Actually," she remarked. "This feels a lot better. That thing is way too tight."_

 _He nodded in amusement, suddenly feeling a sexual desire for her pretty body come over him. But, he forced himself to push his arousal away. With his oldest child being gone, his youngest being not even twelve hours old and in so much pain, and his wife being in no mood or condition for any sort of love-making, now was most certainly not the time for him to have such feelings. To have them was pure selfishness._

 _He scolded himself inwardly and placed their son on Emina's chest, very slowly and carefully._

" _Don't press him against you very tightly," Cassim advised as he himself sat down on the bed next to her. "He can't handle any sort of pressure right now."_

" _I know," she said, giving her husband a look, telling him that she wasn't stupid. Nevertheless, she moved her arm and hand down to where her son's little feet were positioned so that she wouldn't risk accidentally touching anywhere near his fresh wound. "I've done this before."_

 _Cassim nodded and stroked her hair, taking in her beauty._

" _We still haven't named him," she said once the baby had latched onto her and began to suckle lightly._

 _That was true. They had been so preoccupied with Mozenrath's situation that they had never discussed any potential names for their new child._

 _Cassim thought for a moment as he looked down at his little boy in wonder. "How about Aladdin?" he asked after a while. "That was the name of one of my teachers in school, one of my favorites. In fact, probably the best I ever had…I owe him a lot."_

 _He sighed at the memory of his old professor. Cassim knew that the man had passed away about a year or so prior. It had been a devastating time for his student._

" _Alright," she agreed. "Aladdin it is."_

Cassim found himself consumed by the guilt of this memory, the guilt of causing Emina so much depression after she had just begun to feel so happy with their new little child. One month after Aladdin's birth, he had left his wife and son, never to see Emina's beautiful face again. His only wish was that he could turn back time and make the decision to stay by her side.

He glanced over at his now twenty-year-old son and squeezed his hand, but soon realized that the young man had fallen back to sleep. The former King of Thieves then turned his toward the sound of the bedroom door opening, and Jasmine was back, a glass of water in her hand.


End file.
